One step at a time
by CD57
Summary: O'Neill is facing a long and difficult road in order to get home and well.
1. Chapter 1

**SPOILERS**: Big ones for Frozen, Nightwalkers, Abyss and Shadow Play. Minor ones for Need, The Tok'ra part two, The Serpent's Venom and the Fifth Man. Maybe more, I don't remember.  
**SEASON / SEQUEL**: season six  
**CONTENT WARNINGS:** lots of shit happening  
**SUMMARY**: O'Neill is facing a long and difficult road in order to get home and well.  
**DISCLAIMER**: This story is written entirely for entertainment and is not intended as an infringement against the copy written material that belongs solely to Showtime, MGM/UA, Gekko Films, et al. I'm only playing with their characters and will return them as soon as the story is finished. The following story is the property of the author and is not to be copied, or published without the express, written consent of the author.  
**AUTHOR'S NOTES**: This one is dedicated to Arnise and Hoodat, for all the effort, time and work they're putting in building us a fabulous website, . Thanks, girls, you're the best. And sis, I promised you a shippy fic a while ago… well, this is as close as it will ever get, coming from me. So I hope you enjoy it.  
Many, many thanks to the Sandra's for all the time they've invested in this, nicely persuading me to continue and nitpicking over all the grammar stuff. Also to BadgerGater, for I know you are busy, but still you hurried to beta for me. Thanks, vriendin.

**UPDATE**: This is an old story, written in what, oh, 2002? I don't even remember. I dug it up, it was in a format my current laptop didn't even want to open. But... jchristi22 asked for this, and since ChezCorine is not open anymore, I suppose it would be a good idea to archive it here, so it won't get truly lost in case of a computer crisis here at home :-)

so... copy and paste it is for the upcoming days. Have fun, reading, jchristi22!

* * *

**ONE STEP AT A TIME**

God, he was hot. How could he be hot at about the coldest place on Earth, huh? If he wasn't feeling that bad he would have laughed about it. He'd been to this corner of the world before and back then he'd been freezing to death.

_Now he was smothering to death._

Damn.

He'd survived the freezing part but O'Neill wasn't so sure he was going to survive the smothering. He'd been sick before from a variety of diseases from chicken pocks to exotic jungle fever and was experienced enough to distinguish the bad from the really, really bad.

Besides Icegirl, who, for some reason had the ability to heal them but was lacking the strength to do so all at once, their only hope would be the doc and Carter. But if they got sick as well, and he was pretty sure they weren't feeling too swell either, their chances were narrowing down to the good old plain nada-nada.

Whatever happened, O'Neill promised himself, if Icegirl was going to make one other attempt, it would have to be one of the brains. It was their only chance. He only hoped he wouldn't have to decide which one of the two females, 'cause he was pretty sure that he was unable to do so.

Sometimes his job sucked.

It was his job to protect his team and all, but how was he supposed to do so if circumstances he couldn't influence were popping up out of nowhere, messing around?

It was getting harder to keep his eyes open, harder to concentrate. He had to remember. Protect them, protect the women...

They held the ticket out of this freezing hell.

* * *

"Jonas?"

Jonas Quinn looked up, startled, confused.

"Are you all right?" Major Carter was staring at him, frowning worriedly at his lack of response.

Quinn sighed, wiping a weary hand over his face. "Yeah, I'm fine now. Thanks to Ayiana..." He stared at the still from of the ancient woman, who was lying on his bed now. Jonas hadn't been that sick in a long, long time and he was more than glad it was over. Turning his head, he glanced at the female member of the team and suddenly wondered how she was doing. "You?"

"I'm fine, now," Sam quickly reassured him, already moving her attention to the one person beside Ayiana in the room who was far from fine. "She healed me, too..."

Jonas followed her gaze. "How about the Colonel?" Quinn asked, already knowing the answer. They had both heard Doctor Fraiser's statement that the Colonel was burning up, seen the extremely worried expression on the woman's face as she'd been taking the sick man's vitals.

Carter sighed. "He's getting worse. Why didn't Ayiana heal him, damn it?" She didn't mean to sound that harshly but she was so frustrated over the fact that the woman had collapsed before she could heal them all.

They both looked at the sprawled figure of their CO on the bed and the doctor hovering around him, before Sam returned her attention to the woman lying on the other bunk.

With nothing to do, Jonas knew he couldn't be of any assistance at the moment. Wearily, he sank down in the corner of the room, to his haunches, leaning with his back against the wall. Although the dull aches in bones and muscles were gone, the unpleasant feeling of the illness was still vividly present in his mind. His body had hurt in many places, his limbs heavily pressing into the mattress of the bed he'd been lying on. He'd been hot, sweating profusely, and shivering from the cold but most of all he remembered slowly drifting away into confusing nothingness.

Thinking back to that scary moment of his life he suddenly vaguely remembered how he'd been tossing and turning in his feverish dreams when the ancient woman had come into his room.

Jonas Quinn frowned deeply, searching his memory, as he wondered why his subconscious came forward with this image. Ayiana had come into their room, had held her hands above him, one on his chest and one under his chin and he'd had the weirdest experience of his life where he slowly felt the sickness being sucked out of him. He couldn't find a better way to describe it. The feeling that he was missing something important kept nagging at him, however, and he pushed himself, trying to figure out what was bothering him.

Pressing his temples, he again relived the moment from when Ayiana stepped into the room. He was hot... nauseous... didn't recognize her at first. Then... a soft voice, what was it?

Concentrating on that voice with all his willpower, Jonas slowly breathed in and out, trying to recall what that voice had said.

_Then he knew._

His eyes shot open, shocked, as he scanned the room before letting his gaze rest on the only sick man left on the Antarctica base.

"Heal... him... first..."

Certain now on what had happened, Jonas stared at his CO in utter disbelief and amazement. Despite the fact that they weren't exactly getting along very well yet, despite the fact that the Colonel most likely held him responsible for what had happened to Doctor Jackson, Colonel O'Neill had told Ayiana to heal him first. Disregarding his own well being over that of his team.

He remembered the expression on Major Carter's face, when she'd told him bits and pieces about the Colonel's character. He recalled the pride shining through her voice, when she spoke of her CO, and the way he cared for his team. He'd seen the looks on the faces of members of other teams, when approaching them. This very action, it fitted everything he'd come to learn about O'Neill's personality.

Yet it felt strange, discomforting but also a great honor to be the subject of the Colonel's way of caring and Jonas Quinn couldn't help asking himself what he'd done to deserve this.

* * *

God, what was happening...

He vaguely remembered voices but with the cotton balls filling his skull there was no way of determining what they'd been saying.

Last thing he did recall was being sick, real sick. Feeling like crap, smothering to death with his limbs aching and his head pounding unmercifully. A gentle hand brushing through his hair... soft soothing words...

What was happening? Where was his team, were they all right?

He wondered whether it was delusion or reality but the only thing he saw was some strange human beings, with the weirdest masks to cover their faces. They appeared to be friendly, but somehow he had no idea who they were and what they wanted of him. Damn, he didn't even remember whether he was off world or at home, wherever on Earth that was at the moment.

Taking in air through his throat was becoming more and more difficult, despite the nasal cannula. Every intake of breath was burning its way down, inch by little inch, irritating and stinging the inner layer of his lungs. It was scaring him, since the pain was forcing him to slow down breathing but his instincts were battling with his will to make sure enough air was being pumped into his lungs to prevail from suffocating.

The rest of his body didn't matter anymore. The pain in his arms, legs, abdomen... it all automatically was being pushed to the back of his mind in his struggle to get a hold onto his breathing.

In.

Out.

He winced... it hurt, so bad.

In... and out.

* * *

Janet Fraiser was cursing silently. All tests she had run, all of the knowledge she had, all equipment available and yet nothing, nothing seemed to be able to stop the virus that was slowly killing Colonel O'Neill, team leader of SG-1, Second in Command of the SGC, but most of all, her friend.

He was slipping through her fingers and no matter how hard she squeezed, she couldn't stop the process. Hell, she couldn't even slow it down, even to only buy them some time to come up with something else, something different, something... that would work.

To Janet Fraiser, losing her friend like this, slowly but steadily, felt like the worst possible failure in her career. It had always been her greatest nightmare, to lose a patient because she wasn't competent enough to save him. Now, that very nightmare was becoming more than a horrible reality.

Approaching the bed in her biohazard suit she studied the deathly pale face of her friend, lying motionless on the hospital bed. He'd been tossing and turning, mumbling incomprehensibly due to the dangerous high fever he was running, softly moaning now and then as the virus was hurting him like she remembered it had hurt her, but most likely far worse now as it had progressed.

Now, however, he was quiet, too quiet for a man of his character. He'd slipped into a coma, and there was no way Janet knew he would ever get out of it. Fighting off the tears that were welling up behind her mask, she noticed General Hammond's and Major Carter's arrival. Looking up at them, Fraiser swallowed the lump in her throat and prepared to give them the bad news.

* * *

Major Samantha Carter was walking around the infirmary like a zombie. She hadn't really taken the time to get over losing Daniel and now she was facing the possible death of her commanding officer.

Janet Fraiser had been clear, there was no way on Earth human medicine could help the Colonel, and, without a small miracle, Colonel O'Neill would not make it through the night.

She'd been forcing her mind to come up with something, anything, which could prevent the disaster. There was nothing. Their only hope was either for Ayiana to recover or their allies to come up with something but time was running out.

A voice calling her name interrupted her thoughts. "Major Carter!"

Sam looked up. "Sergeant. What's up?"

"General Hammond wants to see you in the Control room, ma'am," the young Sergeant told her.

Sighing, Carter left the infirmary, heading for the elevator to take her to the right level. Only three minutes later she arrived at the Control room, to find the General, Teal'c and a Tok'ra councilor waiting. They walked up the stairs to reach the briefing room.

The story was clear, as she listened to Thoran's explanation. There was a symbiote available, and it would be a benefit for both races to grab this chance; the symbiote Kanan could heal Colonel O'Neill and the Tok'ra would have the opportunity to get the vital information Kanan was carrying from his latest mission.

Staring from one person to the other, Carter couldn't believe what she was hearing. Personally, she would love to grab this opportunity to save her CO's life, there was nothing on the world she wanted more at this very moment, but she also realized this was something Colonel O'Neill would never choose. Knowing him well enough regarding his distrust against the Goa'uld and even the Tok'ra, she was positive that he would rather die than blend with a symbiote.

Teal'c also knew, as he stated what she had been thinking. "I do not believe Colonel O'Neill would choose to become a Tok'ra."

She nodded in agreement, while Thoran wondered how anybody would choose death over blending.

Then Jonas came running up the stairs, a defeated expression on his face. "Ayiana is dead."

Sam winced and closed her eyes at the devastating news.

"Dr. Fraiser did everything she could, but..." Jonas explained helplessly.

"She may have been on borrowed time from the start," Carter added, vaguely listening to General Hammond explaining the now one and only chance left to save their CO.

Even Jonas Quinn knew the Colonel well enough to know he wouldn't want to blend with a Tok'ra as he asked doubtfully, "What does Colonel O'Neill have to say?"

Carter listened to the explanation of the Tok'ra councilor with mixed emotions. On the one hand, the General was right, maybe they would have to decide for Colonel O'Neill, since he had slipped into a coma. On the other hand, she knew she would never be able to decide such a thing for him, and although General Hammond would have to make the call, she really wanted to try and ask her CO so he could decide for himself.

Luckily, General Hammond allowed her to at least try, before he would have to make the decision for him, and shortly after, she was on her way to the infirmary to talk about the possibilities with Doctor Fraiser.

* * *

General Hammond stood in the Gate room, watching with sorrow and yet hope in his eyes, as three members of SG-1, one Tok'ra councilor plus two orderlies carried the box with Colonel O'Neill through the Stargate.

He'd been relieved that Major Carter had managed to talk to the Colonel about what they were about to do, although he doubted if O'Neill had been really aware of what he'd agreed to. He wouldn't have hesitated to decide for his Second, and would have let it happen, if the Colonel hadn't been conscious enough to nod, but still, this made it a bit easier for him.

He'd lost Doctor Jackson recently, and he was reluctant to lose another one of his premier contact team, especially the leader, a man with great abilities, a fine set of qualities and also a good friend.

He didn't doubt that Jack would be pissed, afterwards, when he would find out what had happened to him, but the General would rather deal with a very pissed off Colonel instead of with a very dead one. And while Hammond knew how O'Neill despised the slimy snakeheads, as he would call them once in a while, the General was confident that the Tok'ra would keep their end of the bargain and that the blending would only be temporary.

He sighed heavily, when the team had disappeared through the wormhole, and pretty soon afterwards the gate shut down, leaving him behind again.

Behind, so he would have to do nothing but wait, hope and worry.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/Ns: thanks for your kind reviews, all! It is really nice, especially since I hardly remember ever writing this stuff g _

_on with the story then..._

* * *

The arrival on the Tok'ra home world was met with silence. Nobody was there to welcome them and General Carter, knowing his way around, led the small group of people through the tunnels towards the room where he knew the procedure would take place.

The team wasn't allowed to get into the room where the implantation would be done, this, in order to protect them from the virus that was still killing their friend. They had to go into another room and wait there, Thoran explained to them with a stoic face.

"Dad," Sam pleaded, turning towards her father. "We have to be with him... I can't let him go through this alone. It is something he despises, and I am the one who talked him into this. I've got to be there."

"Sammie," Carter looked his daughter deep into the eyes. "I know what you are saying, but it is too risky, you know that. Colonel O'Neill still has that contagious virus and it can affect you..."

"I know... but still... we really should be with him..." she protested weakly.

"Sam," General Carter grabbed her hand. "Colonel O'Neill is in no shape to even know whether you are there or not. But I promise, I will stay with him, and make sure he sees a familiar face as soon as he starts waking up, okay?"

Sam nodded, knowing it was the closest to actually being there. "Thanks... and call us as soon..."

"Of course," Carter interrupted her. "It will be all right, I promise."

* * *

General Carter took a seat next to the cot where the still body of Colonel O'Neill rested. Two Tok'ra councilors were preparing the implantation, leaving the General some time to gather his thoughts.

He'd never witnessed another blending. The memory of Sel'mac, crawling through his throat, burrowing itself through to enter his brain, was still a too vivid memory that he hadn't been able to forget, making him not eager to want to watch it from close distance. He'd been very sick at the time, too, but Carter knew that he'd been more lucid than Jack was to actually know what was happening.

On the other hand, he'd willingly agreed to the blending, while Jack hadn't. Well, okay, the dying man had sort of given his permission, but Jacob knew well enough how the conversation had taken place and that Jack, like he'd expected, only had given in after realizing he could once more help out gathering vital information to protect the Tok'ra.

It was again so typical O'Neill, he thought sadly. Despising the Goa'uld and not really fond of the Tok'ra either, but going with it in order to save some lives of others without thinking of himself. It was only fair for Jacob to step over his own fears, facing his own terrifying memories of that moment, when Sel'mac had entered his body. He would be there, and make sure that, if Jack was aware of anything, he wasn't alone.

Once again he looked at the Colonel, who was lying quietly, and hadn't moved a muscle since he'd been lifted out of the 'box'. The oxygen mask still covering most of his face, Carter couldn't really examine the man. All he could see were the closed eyes, the drenched hair and wet drops of sweat rolling down his cheeks.

Moving closer, Jacob reached and grabbed the sick man's hand. "Relax, Jack. It's a piece of cake, believe me..." he whispered.

Thoran slowly nodded at him, telling him that everything was ready. The symbiote Kanan was close by in a container, waiting for its new, temporary host.

General Carter bent forward, and gently removed the oxygen mask, then, reassuringly, stroked with his fingers over the unmoving man's face before grabbing his hand again. "It's gonna be okay, Jack. I promise."

Thoran opened up the container and took Kanan out, then stepped forward. The snake was squirming in his hand, its tail sweeping from one side to the other, now that it was out in the open air.

Carter winced, as he felt a shiver run over his back, at the sight of the Tok'ra. He hadn't really looked at them a lot since he'd become a host, it was something he couldn't bring himself to do. Squeezing O'Neill's hand, he closed his eyes as Thoran moved to put the Tok'ra into the mouth of the deathly quiet host.

Quickly he opened them again, as the body of the Colonel started convulsing. "Easy, Jack..." he tried to calm the twisting man down.

O'Neill was subconsciously fighting and his back arched as he tried to withdraw and get away. The Goa'uld was digging into his mouth, but O'Neill gagged, tried to pull his head away and started coughing violently.

Carter quickly rose to his feet, bent forward and grabbed O'Neill's head in an attempt to hold it still. His thumbs caressing the cheeks, he started talking, hoping it would reach the sick man's mind so he would quiet down. "Sssh, Jack... calm down. It's going to be all right. Don't fight it. I know it hurts, I know it's gross, but please, try to relax..."

Looking down at the Colonel, he didn't think his words had any effect yet. The Goa'uld was still trying to enter the body of its host, but the gagging and coughing made it almost impossible. A small trail of blood dripped out of the corner of Jack's mouth.

Jacob tried again, a little louder this time. "Colonel O'Neill! Don't move." He sighed in relief as the words appeared to reach the Colonel this time. O'Neill's head dropped back on the pillow, and his fighting attempts ceased, giving Kanan the opportunity to completely disappear.

"Good enough," Carter said gently, squeezing O'Neill's hand. "The worst is over now, believe me. Now please, give Kanan the chance to heal you, okay?"

Jack's eyes fluttered open for a brief second and the horrified gaze met the gentle smiling eyes of the Tok'ra General, before rolling up in his head as he lost consciousness.

Jacob stared at the still body for a long time, before letting out a deep sigh. Grabbing a cloth he bedded O'Neill's forehead, then gathered the oxygen mask and carefully placed it back over the Colonel's mouth to assist the still labored breathing.

* * *

For the next couple of hours, Jacob Carter AKA Sel'mac remained close, now and then wiping off the sweat of the still sick man on the cot. Finally, Carter could feel the difference as the fever that had been wracking O'Neill's body was breaking and the breathing was slowly falling back into a normal rhythm.

Satisfied that Kanan was succeeding in his job, Jacob removed the oxygen mask and expected the newly blended pair to wake up any time now.

His expectations proved to be right on track. The eyes slowly opened, the gaze immediately locking on Jacob. "Sel'mac?"

Jacob dropped his head then lifted it again with the Tok'ra in control. "Kanan. It is good to see you. Is the recovery faring well?" Sel'mac inquired.

Kanan, in O'Neill's body, gave a slight nod, then moved to sit up. "The host was extremely ill, but I have been able to banish the virus that was killing him. The host however has not been very cooperative, and it has taken much of my strength. We will both need rest, before we are fully recovered."

"That is good news," Sel'mac said. "And about your host... It is only now possible to inform you that this is a temporary host. He has agreed to the blending, so that it would allow you to provide us with the information about your latest mission. After that, we will have to find you another host, one that is willing to stay with you."

A frown appeared on the O'Neill's forehead. "I do not understand, but I will respect my host's wishes and remain in the background. Thank you."

Jacob regained control. "Can I speak to Jack?"

O'Neill's chin dropped to his chest, then the man lifted his head. "Whoa!"

"Welcome back, Jack," Jacob grinned. "How are you doing?"

O'Neill pulled a face, then grabbed his head. "What have I been drinking, huh? This is weird... very weird."

"I know," the General said. "The headache won't last long, don't worry. Kanan will help you with that."

"Kanan... o...kay..." Jack mumbled, still confused over everything. He moved to stand up, a surprised smile forming on his lips. He quickly bent his knees, then got up again. "The knees are feeling pretty damn good..."

Smiling, Jacob watched how the Colonel slowly came to feel and realize the full meaning of the blending. "No back problems either, I take it? I have no idea what will happen after Kanan leaves you, however, so don't get all your hopes up."

"Yeah, about that deal," O'Neill quickly came back to business. "I seem to remember that... This _is_ temporary, right?"

General Carter nodded.

"Honestly?"

"Yes, Jack," Jacob acknowledged.

"Boy's Scout's honor?" Jack pushed on.

"Jack..." Carter smiled now. "I'm sure Kanan will explain it to you as well."

"Well..." O'Neill shrugged. "No offence, but... I'd rather take your word on it."

Jacob Carter slapped him on the shoulder. "Come on. There's some people dying to see you."

* * *

The three waiting SG-1 members had been informed about the process of the blending, but were still anxious to see their CO alive and well before really being able to believe it. They all looked up expectantly, when General Carter stepped inside, shortly followed by O'Neill.

"Dad..." Sam started before she spotted her CO. "Colonel! Sir..."

"O'Neill," Teal'c said with a smile on his lips. "It is good to see you."

"Colonel O'Neill," Jonas added. "Welcome back."

"Hey, kids," O'Neill said, shortly waving with one hand at them.

Sam examined him thoroughly. "How are you feeling, Sir?"

"Well... alive, for starters," O'Neill explained. "Weird, actually, and..." he shrugged helplessly, shortly gesturing in the direction of his head. "You know, not that I'm ungrateful, 'cause the dying part really sucked... but, hopefully I will be me, and me alone, soon."

"You will, Sir," Sam hastened to say. "As soon as they find another host. It was part of the deal."

"I know..." O'Neill nodded quickly. "But we are getting along, despite the quarrels."

"Quarrels, Sir?" Sam wondered.

"Yeah, we have some disagreements," Jack explained. "I'm the Colonel and now Kanan thinks he's the General while I keep telling him he's a Major... That kind of quarrels." He jokingly blinked with one eye at his Second.

She giggled.

"Anyway... I've got a date with the Tok'ra council," O'Neill continued pragmatically. "So why don't you guys go back to the SGC... do whatever it is that you do whenever I'm not around... and make sure to leave a light on. I'll be coming home."

"We will be waiting, O'Neill," Teal'c stated with a faint nod of his head.

"I'm glad you are all right, Colonel. Come back soon," Jonas Quinn said.

"Yes, Sir," Sam Carter nodded with a relieved smile on her face, then prepared to say goodbye to her Father before leaving.

"Oh, and Carter..." O'Neill added. "Thanks. For trying to let it be my decision. I'm sure Hammond would have issued the order if I hadn't been able to get the picture, but... I appreciate it."

"You're welcome, Sir."

* * *

Jack was walking through the Tok'ra tunnels. He'd just spent a couple of hours with the council, leaving Kanan in control to do the talking.

Apparently, the council was pleased with the information they had been able to obtain from Kanan. The members of the council immediately had work to do and excused themselves.

Thoran had told him they were also searching for a suitable host. It could however take a while and they both agreed for O'Neill AKA Kanan to stay with the Tok'ra until one was found. Thoran had explained to O'Neill he was free to wander around and make himself comfortable during his stay.

Kanan was hovering in the back of his mind. Jack could feel it, could interact with the Tok'ra, but they both remained superficial in their contact, with their situation being only temporary.

Not that Jack minded. In fact, he was more than happy to have the feeling of remaining in control over his own body and mind. The whole idea of having somebody, or something knowing and interrupting his every thought had always scared the hell out of him.

All in all, things could have been much worse, he told himself. He was still alive, thank God, the virus that had been slowly killing him was beaten. He'd helped the Tok'ra gathering the information they needed and the blending, well, despite being something he'd rather forget, hadn't exactly been the nightmare he always had thought it would be. Kanan knew about the agreement, and kept his part of the deal by leaving him pretty much alone.

Now that left him, spending his time amongst people he wasn't really fond of, with not much to do. Or nothing to do, exactly. He was feeling rather useless and bored already.

_Let's go and do something useful,_ something at the back of his mind suddenly told him.

He frowned. Something useful? What was there to do, in a bunch of crystal tunnels?

_Somebody needs our help. We need to get there as soon as possible and get her out of that place._

O'Neill stopped abruptly, startled at the image of a woman popping up in his memory. Who was that girl? He'd never met her in his life.

Shaking his head in denial, he realized it must have been memories of the Tok'ra. He didn't want to know, he didn't need to pay any attention to it.

He found himself walking through the tunnels, certain of his direction, although he had no idea where he was going. Realizing it was Kanan giving the directions, Jack voiced his protest and tried to stop him by turning around, walking the other way.

It didn't work. His body was no longer listening to the commands he was giving it, but appeared to be listening to the other living creature inside his skull. O'Neill desperately tried to protest, regain control, but he had been pushed to the back of his own mind, locked up there and could do nothing but helplessly watch how Kanan used him to reach the Stargate and dial out, to God knew where.


	3. Chapter 3

Major Carter had dug up all information she could gather before attending to the briefing she'd called for after the telephone call she'd received in the middle of the night. Handing over the folders to the General, Teal'c and Jonas Quinn, she started telling them what she knew. "His name is Doctor Richard Flemming. He's a biologist, formerly a professor of advanced genetics at Stanford."

Jonas Quinn only briefly looked at the photo inside the folder before looking up. "Sure. He's famous for developing hybrid strains of disease resistant corn and cotton..."

Unaware of the surprised glanced of the others, he continued. "I read an article about him in the American Journal for Evolutionary Science..." Noticing the way they were all staring at him now, he tried to explain. "The base library has a subscription..."

Sam quickly brought everybody's attention back to the issue. "Well, what the article didn't say...is that two years ago, he accepted a position with a company called Immunitech Research, which, it turns out, is a wholly-owned subsidiary of Zetatron Industries."

Teal'c looked up in surprise. "Adrian Conrad," he stated.

Quinn questioningly stared at him. "Who?"

Sam, not quite believing what she was hearing, looked at their newest team member. "You don't know?"

Jonas only shrugged, then listened to the explanation by General Hammond.

"Adrian Conrad was a man who had himself implanted with a stolen symbiote in order to cure himself of a deadly disease.

Carter took over. "That was ten months ago. At the time, Immunitech was located in Phoenix. One week after we took Adrian Conrad into custody, their operations were scaled back and they moved to a small town on the coast of Oregon called...Steveston."

Hammond quickly drew his conclusion. "We need to talk to this Dr. Flemming."

Sam looked at him in dismay. "He was reported missing this morning, Sir. They found his car totaled, but there was no body."

The General frowned, then made his decision. "This obviously warrants further investigation. I'll have transportation arranged for the three of you."

Jonas reacted startled at the news of them leaving without their CO. "Colonel O'Neill won't be joining us?"

"The Tok'ra are still looking for a suitable host for his symbiote," Carter reminded him.

"You'll have to do your best without him," Hammond said. "Dismissed."

* * *

Colonel O'Neill was dreaming.

He was drifting off on a soft white cloud, along with the breeze that was gently pushing against it.

It felt comfortable and peaceful.

There were no bad memories. There was no hurry, nothing urgent that needed to be done.

No mission reports to think of, no briefings to attend to, not even a memo to read.

It felt perfectly fine, just lying there, and although it somehow surprised him, Jack enjoyed the moment of emptiness, enjoyed the doing nothing without being bored out of his skull for a change.

He was tired.

He couldn't even remember what had happened or how he'd ended up here. It was probably Doc's happy fluids, he gathered.

Knowing he would soon enough have to open his eyes and come back to the land of the living, facing whatever he'd done to himself this time, he just relaxed and let the silence engulf him completely.

He imagined himself lying there, two hands folded behind his neck, one knee drawn up as he was staring up at the peaceful blue sky. It felt great.

Picturing the whole scene, he could even feel the wind, pushing softly, moving him away, slowly, drifting, on that cloud, heading nowhere in particular.

Then, the sky above him broke open, revealing an unfamiliar ceiling.

Surprised and slightly confused, O'Neill found himself staring at the white material covering the inside of whatever he was lying in.

A face he didn't know shortly appeared above him.

"The host lives, my Lord."

* * *

General Hammond was pissed.

Maybe pissed wasn't exactly the word, he thought, as he ordered the Sergeant behind the keyboard to close down the connection. Downright furious was coming closer, actually.

The last couple of days, while the rest of SG-1 was on a mission in Oregon, he'd been contacting the Tok'ra, asking for any news regarding Colonel O'Neill and the search for a new suitable host.

The answer he'd been receiving was the same every time he asked. They hadn't found a willing host yet, it could take a while longer, and no, Colonel O'Neill wasn't available to talk to him.

He'd asked to speak to Jacob Carter / Sel'mac, but unfortunately Carter was on a mission and had left the Tok'ra base.

Hammond perfectly well knew when he was being given the runaround, and this was one of those moments.

The difficulty was, that there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

* * *

Colonel O'Neill was pissed.

Maybe pissed wasn't exactly the word, he thought, as the two guards motioned for him to come out of his cell after switching off the gravity field that held him clinging to the wall. Downright furious was coming closer, actually.

The last couple of hours, or days, he couldn't be sure, he'd been interrogated by a slimy, sneaky System Lord with the most humiliating name amongst them all.

Ba'al.

Ba'al was asking him questions. Questions he didn't even _know_ the answers to. Not that he would haven given them anyway, but still.

Ba'al wanted to know why he'd returned to his planet, which was something he didn't know 'cause it had been another one of those snake-heads that had taken control and failed to share the mission details with him.

Ba'al wanted to know what he wanted with the girl, which was something he didn't know 'cause he'd never met her in his life despite the vague image that was stored somewhere in his memory. Probably another tiny little detail Kanan had deliberately chosen to hold for himself.

Kanan.

Ba'al.

Jack couldn't decide which snake he was most pissed at. Why on Earth had he ever agreed to that stupid idea to blend on a temporary basis with a Tok'ra anyway, huh? A snake is a snake, Tok'ra or not. Never trust a snake had been one of his basic survival rules but still he'd agreed to the deal.

_Stupid, Jack, real stupid._ He could have chosen death when he was infected with that ancient virus, but he'd made a deal with the devil instead. Now he was paying the price, and not even death could provide him a one-way ticket out of hell.

Dying had become a both-ways ticket instead. He died, they put him in the sarcophagus, he lived. Starting over, he died...

Crap.

The guards grabbed him by the arms, like they had done before, and guided him into the all too familiar room where Ba'al would ask him questions, then he wouldn't answer, Ba'al would just smile and either throw knives or acid on him, then he would die.

It hurt, the dying part. It had hurt tremendously, each time. The only thing that had become easier was that he didn't fight against it anymore, therefore the pain ended sooner as his body and mind gave up and death came claiming him.

He had to do something. This was useless, not to mention pissing him off and he wanted to end it.

The guards dragged him forward towards the platform.

O'Neill acted. He swung one arm to the right. The well-aimed hit took out one guard. O'Neill turned his body. Again, his fist moved.

The second guard blocked the blow. He moved his arm.

O'Neill ducked out of the way. He lifted his leg and kicked the guard in his groin.

The guard doubled over.

O'Neill swung his arm again.

Then, both bodies were grabbed by the gravity field and were sucked hard against the tangled web.

Jack groaned at the impact with the metal frame. His right arm got stuck under his body and something snapped as the pressure wasn't released but seemed to be increasing instead. Biting his lip in order not to scream out in agony, O'Neill tried to shift his body to find a better position. One eye was closed, pressed against a part of the frame, and with the other he could see the guard hanging in a similar position.

Ba'al stepped inside, slowly, before taking in his position on the chair. "You are impressive. Unfortunately, I cannot let you go. We have some unfinished business."

O'Neill felt the pressure relieve just enough to move and roll onto his back. He moaned as his limp arm screamed at him, the broken bones grinding together due to the movement. Grimacing, Jack tried to regain control over his haggard breathing. "I've got nothing to say," he hissed angrily.

Ba'al just smiled. "Why did you return here? What did you want with my slave? I need to know what your mission was."

"I... don't... know," O'Neill managed to choke out.

"It is there, hidden in your mind. It will come to you. For what purpose did you come back?" Ba'al unmercifully continued.

"I didn't come back. I've never been here," Jack spat back for the umpteenth time.

"You _will_ remember. Why did you run off with my slave?" Ba'al stood up, walked over to the panel and opened it up. Taking out a knife, he slowly moved it from one hand to the other, caressing the shaft. "What... was it that made you come back?"

"I...don't... remember..." O'Neill twisted, unconsciously trying to withdraw, trying to get out of reach of what he knew was coming.

"The answers are hidden in your mind. It will come to you, even if I have to dig it out," Ba'al said simply, raising his hand to search position. He let go of the knife.

The knife flew, or rather fell, the sharp blade cutting through robe, flesh and blood.

O'Neill groaned out loud, and then gritted his teeth as he tightly closed his eyes. The knife had entered his body, just below the collarbone this time, and due to the force of the gravity field, had dug in deep. His breathing was increasing from the agony that was flaring through his chest, shoulder and already broken arm. Don't fight it, he kept reminding himself, but it was hard to stop his own survival instincts.

Ba'al didn't give him time to recover. "One more time. What was your mission?"

Forcing his eyes to open just enough to glare at the System Lord, O'Neill had to use all his willpower to muster up strength to answer. "No... mission..."

Jack didn't even see the next one coming. The impact with his chest startled him before another shockwave of pain spread through his torso. Blood was slowly flowing along the blades now, trickling down his skin towards his arms and into the fabric of the robe he was wearing.

Ba'al took in the limp figure on the web. The human was grimacing and sweat glistered on his forehead. The man was breathing in short, shallow gasps and he had one hand clenched to a tight fist. Taking out the third knife, Ba'al continued. "What... did you want with my slave?"

"What... slave?" O'Neill managed to choke out, anger and desperation shining through his voice. He was trembling slightly now, or maybe it was shivering as he was starting to feel really, really cold. His stomach rebelled, and he had to fight to keep the nausea at bay. It would be over soon now, he knew. If only he could get some water, he was so thirsty...

Without hesitating, Ba'al aimed and dropped the third knife.

It dug deep into O'Neill's chest, straight into the heart. Jack was vaguely aware of his body convulsing, while breathing became almost impossible. He struggled for air, and failed to get enough. The black spots making him dizzy, intensifying until his world became totally dark and he knew no more.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: thanks, especially to the guests who left reviews, because I cannot reply to you personally. It makes me a happy camper, knowing people like my work..._

* * *

The alarm klaxons sounded, indicating an incoming wormhole. General Hammond came down the stairs and walked up to Sergeant Davis behind the dialing monitor.

"It's the Tok'ra," Davis informed the commander of the SGC.

"It's about damn time," Hammond barked angrily before turning to descend towards the Gate room. Only a couple of seconds later he walked to the base of the ramp, waiting for the traveler who was coming to the SGC.

The Tok'ra Thoran emerged and walked down the ramp. "General Hammond," he greeted the waiting man.

Hammond wasted no time. "Councilor Thoran..." he started, immediately coming to the point. "I'm afraid my patience on this matter has just about run out. You've been promising the safe return of Colonel O'Neill for days. Where is he?"

An unnerving feeling crept over his spine as the General glanced at the tall man in front of him. Something was wrong, very wrong.

Thoran's expression was a mixture between regret and concern as he responded. "I'm afraid I am the bearer of bad news..."

* * *

Daniel hadn't regretted ascending up till now. It really had been the experience of a lifetime, and it was as if it was meant to be this way.

At this very moment though, Daniel had doubts for the first time. Felt useless, frustrated and sorry for what he'd become. From a distance, he'd witnessed the capture of his friend by the System Lord Ba'al. He'd seen the rounds of torture, the death of Jack, several times, and the revivals in the sarcophagus.

What was the meaning of this? Daniel couldn't put his finger on it. In his mind, everything had to lead to something, had to have a meaning, or a solution.

This endless circle of Ba'al asking questions, Jack not answering until he ended up dead again, was something way beyond the former archaeologist's imagination.

It hurt, to see what was happening to the best friend he'd ever had.

It hurt, to watch from a close distance without being able to do anything.

He couldn't interfere.

He wasn't God, it wasn't up to him.

_But by God, it hurt._

Where was Oma, when he needed her? What was he supposed to do? Here he was, having discussion after discussion with his stubborn friend, but they couldn't come up with anything that would end these absurd rounds of torture and death.

Daniel really couldn't face this any longer. His friend was slowly slipping away, the desperation of the situation taking its toll as Jack was coming to the conclusion that there indeed was no way out, and that Daniel wasn't going to help him either.

God, Jack was so mad at him.

Although it made him feel sad, Daniel could all too well understand Jack's reaction, and was actually having similar feelings of anger. Why wasn't he supposed to do something?

_Jack would do it for him._

He didn't doubt that.

That's why he had turned to Jack, to ask him to let him go, when Jacob had tried to heal him of the radiation sickness. Daniel had known his path, what he'd wanted to become, and only Jack would have accepted that and supported him by stopping the treatment.

Now, he couldn't return the favor and offer his friend something, anything, anything that could put an end to this.

Well, there was only one thing he _could_ offer. He had offered it, but as expected, Jack had laughed about that, waving him off with a sneer. It didn't matter whether Daniel believed that Jack could ascend, if the man didn't have that faith himself, it wouldn't work.

There was really nothing, nothing that he could do.

The guards had come, taking Jack away for the umpteenth time, and shaking his head in desperation, Daniel left.

He hated to leave his friend like this, knew that although they had done nothing than having firm discussions, his presence was of great comfort to Jack, but he had to go. The fact that there was nothing else he could do was getting to him, and he just had to know if maybe, just maybe Jack was right and his team would come up with something after all.

* * *

The briefing room was filled with SG-1 minus their missing team leader, the Tok'ra Thoran and General Hammond. After having studied Kanan's latest mission reports, SG-1 had determined the location where they believed Kanan must have gone. Although both races were aware of the inaccessibility of Ba'al's fortress, the humans had, unlike the Tok'ra, not given up upon their missing friend. In the end, it was Teal'c who had come up with an idea that could be the solution to rescue their CO and now they gathered to discuss the possibilities.

"Major, what exactly have we managed to do so far?" Hammond started the briefing.

"Well, Sir," Carter explained. "Based on Teal'c's idea we have made contact with the Goa'uld Yu. The Tok'ra," she nodded briefly at the man present in the room," have eventually provided us with the right directions to reach his mothership."

Hammond quickly nodded but refused to say thanks to somebody who had gotten them into trouble in the first place.

"We have informed him that we believe that Ba'al is holding Colonel O'Neill prisoner at his outpost, that we don't have enough power to put up a fight against this Goa'uld and have requested his help. Yu was most eager to blow a hole in Ba'al's solid walls, so we've revealed the location and the schematics of the fortress. "

"And?" the General asked, frowning. "Do we have reason to believe that this Goa'uld will even care about what happens to one of us?"

Carter shook her head. "No, Sir, we don't. We can only hope he'll take it into consideration."

Hammond looked to the other side of the table. "Teal'c. What do you think Yu will do?"

"Ba'al has gained much power under the system lords, General Hammond," Teal'c said. "It is my belief that Yu will destroy as much of Ba'al's forces as possible. It will give him more status amongst the other system lords. Yu will be grateful for this opportunity and if the possibility arises I am confident that Yu would allow Colonel O'Neill to escape. However, it will not be his primary objective."

"Colonel O'Neill will pretty much be on his own, General," Jonas added. "We're just providing him with a diversion, hoping that the opportunity arises in which the Colonel can free himself and find a way out. It's not much of a chance, especially since we have no idea what his condition will be, but it's about the best we can do."

Nodding, Hammond responded. "Let's hope Colonel O'Neill will find a way. If anybody can, it will be him. We all know how resourceful he is."

"We still need to send a team to that planet, Sir," Sam spoke up, concern etching her face.

"I cannot authorize that, Major," the General objected. "If Yu is blowing up the place, it will be too dangerous to be wandering around.

"I realize that, Sir," Carter said. "But we have set this whole thing up to give Colonel O'Neill a chance to escape from Ba'al's outpost. At least, we need to be there, waiting for him."

Jonas stared at her. "What do you mean? He can use the Stargate by himself, can't he?"

"Without a GDO O'Neill cannot gate home," Teal'c concluded with a slight bow of his head. "But I am confident he knows the location of the alpha site."

"I know," Sam said, looking from one to the other. "But then again, we have no idea of what Ba'al has done to him. He could be too weak to even reach the Stargate, or suffering from a head injury, preventing him from remembering the address of the alpha site...Why bother giving him a finger if he can't grasp the whole hand? We've got to do something."

"Permission to leave immediately, General Hammond," Teal'c requested without hesitation.

"Now, let's just wait a minute here," the General called them to order. "I am aware of the possibility that Colonel O'Neill for some reason won't be able to escape, but I cannot authorize a rescue mission. It is too risky. I am sure Colonel O'Neill will understand. Let's see what other possibilities we have." He turned his head to look at Thoran. "Is there a way to get a Tok'ra ship to that planet?"

Thoran lifted his brows. "Yes, there is the possibility of sending a ship, but we _are_ on a time schedule here. We'll have to check and see what vessels are capable of getting there within a short period of time."

"We need to know if there's one in the neighborhood," Sam nodded in understanding. "Sir," she faced Hammond again. "With all due respect. I'd like to suggest that SG-1 gates out there and surveys the area while staying close to the gate. If Colonel O'Neill manages to escape and reach the gate, we can all come home. If not, and the situation gets dangerous, we'll dial out and come back."

"Perhaps we can wait until it is acknowledged that Yu is indeed attacking Ba'al. The confusion amongst Ba'al's troops will be great and we will have a better chance to reach the planet without being discovered," Teal'c suggested.

Hammond looked doubtful.

"He would do it for us, General," Jonas added in, hitting the right spot.

"All right. Councilor, can you please contact your people. I need to know if there is a possibility of sending a ship over first. I also need to have a confirmation on Yu's attack."

The Tok'ra nodded. "I shall see to it immediately."

Hammond then looked back at the determined people on the other side of the table. "I suggest you prepare your team to gate out, Major. If there is no ship available, I will allow you to go to the planet. I'm ordering you, however, to stay in the immediate area of the Stargate and to get your team back home if the situation gets too dangerous. I'm not willing to lose any more good people, is that understood?"

Carter just smiled. "Yes, Sir."

* * *

The sound of explosions and collapsing of parts of the fortress were the first signs of what Daniel had told him. This was his chance, he had to get out.

"Lord Yu attacks!" a voice called out through the fortress.

Colonel O'Neill wasted no time and, after testing the gravity field, which had been damaged, he walked out of what had been his prison. The first Jaffa coming his way never got the chance to realize what was happening. Jack took him out with fierce, angry blows before continuing.

He stopped at the next cell and motioned. "Come on..." O'Neill knew he couldn't leave the girl here. It was obvious Ba'al knew something about the relationship between Kanan and his Lotar slave and he didn't want to think about what was going to happen to her if he left her.

"Please..." the Lotar pleaded, desperation in her eyes. "He will know where to find me..."

Somewhere behind them, one of the explosions blew a hole in the ceiling.

"We'll just take that chance. Come, we must hurry." Not wanting to waste any more time, Jack stepped forward, grasped the girl's hand and started dragging her.

She followed him. They ran through the corridors of the fortress, O'Neill leading, the girl on his heels. Every time they reached a junction, the Lotar slave told him which direction to take.

"Turn right," she urged upon another crossway. The two fugitives moved to the right, only to see a couple of guards marching their way. They were spotted immediately.

"No! We go this way," the young woman quickly spun around and dragged O'Neill out of the line of fire.

The explosions on the fortress were still setting parts of the corridors on fire, but miraculously they managed to pass by them and reach the exit.

"This way," Jack instinctively knew where to go and after quickly passing an open area they reached the safer surroundings of the woods.

The Lotar slave ran behind him, and only could keep up because he suddenly slowed his pace. Before she realized what was happening, O'Neill collapsed to the ground, his legs buckling underneath him. She dropped to her knees, taking in his harsh breathing and the sweat running down his temples. "We must hurry," she pleaded, instinctively touching his face. Scanning the area she was relieved to realize there were no guards pursuing them at the moment. "Are you all right?"

Sucking in air, Jack worked to shake off the feeling of exhaustion and weakness. "What's wrong with me?" he mumbled while pushing himself up.

She gently stroked his cheek, then grabbed him by the shoulder to steady him. Offering her other hand, she looked over her shoulder. "Come."

O'Neill took the proffered hand and allowed her to help him get up. He staggered and swayed, but her arm already moved around his waist for support and, although stumbling, they managed to adjust to a slow but steady pace heading for the Stargate.

* * *

Thoran had made contact with the Tok'ra from the SGC Control room and turned towards Hammond and the team.

"There is one possibility. Sel'mac is here," he walked over and pointed on the map of the universe. "He can abort his mission there, take his Teltak, and could reach Ba'al's outpost in three hours."

Relief floated Hammond's face. "Good enough."

"Can we join him?" Carter immediately demanded.

Thoran nodded. "I've already informed Sel'mac of your arrival. He will pick you up at the gate. Now please, go. There is no time to waste."

Sam quickly threw a glance at the General for approval, and, after his slight nod, she turned on her heels. "Let's go."

SG-1, minus their team leader, almost ran up the ramp when the wormhole had established, and jumped through.


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N's: thank you all for reviewing again! You guys are making my day!_

* * *

Nearing the Stargate Jack forced the Lotar to stop, in order to take in his surroundings.

"What?" the startled girl asked.

He pressed a finger onto his mouth to silence her. It took him all his willpower to concentrate, but after a couple of minutes he was positive the area was clear. "I think it's safe. Let's go," he whispered.

The girl supported the weak man and they left the safer surroundings of trees to cross the open area leading to the gate. It was only upon reaching the DHD when they realized they were in trouble.

_Big trouble._

There was smoke coming from the back of the DHD, a huge, gaping hole on top was clearly visible now, and at least a third of the buttons was gone.

"Damnit," cursed O'Neill, devastation overwhelming him rapidly.

The Lotar slave already ran around the device to check the damage. It didn't take her long to look at him. "This is beyond repair."

Jack's knees were unable to carry him any longer and he slid to the ground. "I kinda figured that," he commented with a defeated voice.

The girl rushed back to him, taking his hand. "Come," she urged.

"Why?" he asked wearily. All the adrenaline running through his system during their escape from Ba'al's fun palace was quickly fading and Jack was finding it hard to set his mind to anything. All he really wanted to do was just lie down and forget he'd ever existed.

"We must hide," she shortly explained. "We cannot stay here. He will find us." She started pulling.

"What.. difference.. does it make?" His energy fading, even speaking became quite an effort. "He will... find us there... too."

"There is no failure, except in no longer trying," the Lotar said shortly. "We must go."

Sighing deeply, O'Neill shook his head in an attempt to clear it, then let her pull him back to his feet.

* * *

Two aliens and a female Tau'ri warrior stepped out of the wormhole on the planet where Jacob AKA Sel'mac was supposed to be waiting.

Not letting her defense down, Carter's eyes darted from left to right, surveying the area for possible danger. She was aware her Jaffa team mate was doing the same, while their newest team member just stared around, his face mirroring the joy he was experiencing from seeing yet another planet.

"Come on, dad, where are you?" Sam muttered under her breath. She walked down the steps leading from the gate, still looking around for any signs.

Jonas already followed her, while Teal'c remained in his position.

Suddenly, Sam's radio burst to life. "Step onto the open field to the right. I'll transport you up." General Carter's order was short and to the point. Sam immediately reacted by motioning her team mates to follow her. They didn't as much as reach the middle of the field when the familiar transport rings appeared around them and only a second later, they were standing inside the Tok'ra's vessel.

General Carter looked over his shoulder. "All there? Let's go, I'm going into hyperspace mode."

"Dad," Sam greeter her old man.

The Tok'ra General punched some buttons and made sure the ship was heading in the right direction before fully paying attention to his guests. "Hi, kiddo. Teal'c, Jonas..."

"General Carter, it is good to see you," Teal'c bowed his head as a greeting.

"General, Sir," Jonas Quinn added, also nodding, preparing to peel the banana he had ready in one hand.

"What is our ETA?" Major Carter pragmatically inquired.

"I'd say a little less than three hours. We've already received a confirmation that Yu has opened his attack on the outpost." Carter looked at the three grim faces around him. "Look... not that it makes any difference now... but I'm really sorry about what has happened. I don't know where their heads were, but they've acted as utter fools to just let Kanan walk out of there... They should have been more careful."

Sam nodded. "We think it's the blending of Colonel O'Neill with Kanan that made Kanan act like this. We have reason to believe Kanan fell in love with Ba'al's Lotar on a previous mission several months ago. When he learned about the Colonel's code of honor, he decided to go back for her."

General Carter looked at her, frowning during her explanation, but then nodding. "Yes, that could have happened. Damn. It still is no excuse for the Tok'ra to have let him escape like that. That was just plain stupid."

"So what will happen now?" Jonas wanted to know, taking the last bite of his fruit.

"Now, we push this ship to its limits, hope that Colonel O'Neill is still alive and will find a way to get out of the fortress," the Tok'ra Carter told him. "The chances are pretty slim, but hopefully we'll find him so we can all go home."

"And getting there will take us about three hours?" Jonas asked again.

Both Carters nodded.

"Then I guess it's time to say a prayer or two." With that last comment, Jonas Quinn found a spot to slide to the floor, laying his arms on his drawn knees and rested his head on top of them.

* * *

The Lotar girl managed to drag her companion into the safe surroundings of the forest. With her arm around his waist and his arm slumped over her shoulders they stumbled but stayed on their feet as she picked the way now, urging him to continue, until she knew he couldn't go any further.

She found a good hiding spot between two trunks of long-fallen trees, it was out of sight from any trespassers but she didn't dare thinking about possible pursuers. As the man she was carrying had said, if Ba'al was looking for them, he would find them anyway.

Slowly, she lowered her burden between the trunks to the ground. The man was sweating profusely now and breathing in short, rapid gasps. He put one arm down to support his weak body as he slid down, his legs trembling from the effort of carrying him that long.

"You can rest now," the woman said, her beautiful, young face showing concern.

O'Neill just lay there and concentrated on his haggard breathing while he tried to relax his strained muscles, but it took a long time before the trembles ceased.

Ripping a part of her clothing off, the girl used it to start wiping his face gently. "Who are you?" she asked again. "You are not him, you cannot be... What happened to Kanan?" She knew the man in front of her was not having one of his better days, but she needed to know. "Where is he?"

O'Neill opened his eyes, searching her face. "Kanan... is dead," he croaked. "I was his host... for a short... period. He sacrificed himself... to save you."

She looked startled. "He came back for me?"

Jack weakly nodded. "He loved you."

The girl bowed her head. "I know..." There was sadness in her voice. "He came back for me... And I never truly knew it was him. Everything happened so fast."

"Yes. Then, unfortunately Ba'al's guards caught him," O'Neill explained, as he vaguely remembered falling face down in the mud, without realizing the girl had been there as well.

"And he left your body, to protect me," the Lotar slave now understood the whole situation. "Lord Ba'al suspected, but needed more information. He locked me up... He did," she shivered and moved her head so she wouldn't have to look at him. "He did horrible things to you..."

Jack closed his eyes. The memory of the past couple of days was still too vivid and too terrible to even begin to understand the impact it would have on him in the future. His breathing increased as he suddenly found himself staring at the Goa'uld again, who was just about to drop that nasty acid on his chest. His body shuddered and, not immediately recognizing that it was a flashback, he arched his back as a soft moan escaped his lips.

The Lotar girl quickly bent forward to let her soft fingers touch his face, slowly stroking his cheek then running the top of her fingers along the line of his chin. "Sshhh," she whispered, wiping the tears from her face with the sleeve of her other arm. "It is over now."

His eyes shot wide open, and O'Neill dropped his chin to inspect his chest for reassurance before looking at her again. He sighed and waited for his breathing to return to a more regular rhythm before asking, "What's your name?"

"It is Shallan." She smiled at him, glad that he had overcome his flashback. "And yours?"

"Jack," he whispered.

"Jack," she repeated softly. "I like that name." She turned her hand and rested the back of it against his forehead. "You are running a fever."

That surprised him, because he was shivering from the cold. Along with feeling nauseous, extremely exhausted and unable to set his mind to something, he doubted he would ever be able to get up again. "What's wrong with me?" he muttered, wondering whether the sarcophagus hadn't worked properly the last time.

"Without a Goa'uld, you are not able to handle many treatments in a sarcophagus. It will heal your injuries, but it will also change your body chemistry. I think you are going to be sick for a while," Shallan explained, while wiping his face again. "You did not reveal anything to my Lord Ba'al. You did not tell him anything..." she stared at him, trying to comprehend. "Why not?"

The effort of staying alert was getting too much as O'Neill felt himself slide into darkness. "There.. was," the words were only coming slowly, as it obviously cost him all his willpower to concentrate. "Nothing... to tell..." His eyes fluttered open briefly, meeting hers, before closing once more. "Tired..."

The Lotar girl gently laid her hand on his shoulder. "You can sleep now," she encouraged him, watching as his body slowly relaxed as it slumbered to either sleep or unconsciousness.

Shallan bit her lip, looking at the face of the man lying next to her, studying his features. Another couple of tears ran down her cheeks as realization set in. She made herself comfortable next to him, then grabbed his hand, holding on to it, squeezing it slightly. "You were protecting _me_..."

* * *

"We are getting close!" Jacob Carter warned the waiting team as he took his ship into normal mode before cloaking it. In front of them they could see the effects of Yu's attack, as fire was enlightening the area around the planet they were approaching.

"How do you intend to rescue O'Neill?" Teal'c inquired.

"I don't know yet," Carter said, shrugging. "Let's see how close we can get to take a good look around."

The Tok'ra General carefully maneuvered the ship through the debris flying through space and managed to get closer. Soon they could all see the huge building that used to be Ba'al's fortress. It was heavily damaged, partly caved in and on fire. They could make out lots of commotion around the fortress, possibly guards trying to escape the attack and find a safe place to hide.

"Come on, Colonel, where are you?" whispered Sam, her eyes hooked on the screen, looking for any sign of her missing CO.

"Where is the Stargate?" Jonas Quinn asked, also searching.

"I'm looking for it, but I also have to watch the debris here," Jacob hissed, maneuvering his ship around the fortress in a wider circle.

"There!" Sam suddenly called out, pointing at the screen. "Move more to the left, dad."

"I'm working on it, I'm working on it..." her father said through clenched teeth, concentrating on his task.

They approached the location where the Stargate was located and surveyed the area.

"The DHD appears to be damaged," Teal'c stated.

"What?" Jonas frowned. "I don't see it..."

"Can you zoom in, dad?" Sam Carter asked, also not able to detect anything wrong with the DHD yet, but from previous experiences she knew to trust her Jaffa colleague's eyesight.

Jacob pointed at the buttons. "Use those control panels. I've got to make sure we keep the ship in place."

Sam used the buttons and zoomed in, the screen showing a visibly damaged DHD. "So the Colonel wouldn't have been able to gate out, if he reached it in the first place," she sighed.

"The question is, what would he do next?" Quinn looked around questioningly.

"I don't know, hiding in the forest, maybe, or go back to the fortress..." Jacob mused.

"Why would he go back?" Jonas wondered.

"Well," Sam explained. "With the DHD ruined, using the Stargate is not an option. So his only other chance would be stealing an aircraft."

"General Carter, if you transport me down, I shall go and locate O'Neill," Teal'c offered.

"I don't know," Jacob Carter doubted. "That's pretty dangerous, Teal'c."

"I am aware of the danger, General Carter. My intentions are to seek tracks around the DHD and determine possible clues. If I do not discover anything, you can transport me back up." Teal'c glanced at the Tok'ra, his eyes showing determination.

"Okay," Jacob gave in. "Stay in touch over the radio, though. Sam, I need you to activate the rings."

"Can I go with Teal'c?" Jonas inquired.

"No." Jacob Carter shook his head. "General Hammond wouldn't allow me to risk any more lives than absolutely necessary. I'm sorry. Teal'c... when you are ready..."

"I am." The Jaffa stood still, one hand behind his back, holding a staff up straight with the other, precisely in the middle of the circle indicating the transportation area.

Sam activated the system, and with the familiar sound the rings appeared around Teal'c and then he was gone.


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N's: Hi kids, I was kinda busy last week... but I figured you kinda'd want Jack home safe before the weekend, and it is friday night overhere, so... that I can do. Don't worry, the story isn't finished yet!_

* * *

Shallan had sat beside the unconscious man for a long time when she sensed troops approaching. Shivering in anticipation, she ducked as much out of sight as possible. It took all her concentration to recognize the sound of marching and know it were three or possibly four of Lord Ba'al's troops.

They passed by at a distance of at least twenty yards, and sighing silently, the Lotar realized they were going toward the Stargate, possibly to check it out for Lord Ba'al to use as a backdoor escape route.

Goa'uld death gliders were circling around the fortress now, also firing, indicating the battle between her Lord and Lord Yu wasn't over yet.

The sound of the marching troops ebbed away and Shallan now dared to raise her upper body again, stretching the strained muscles in her back and neck. She wondered about waking her companion, but, after bending forward to feel his brow, she decided to give him a bit more time to recover.

She worried about him. Shallan knew of the powers of the sarcophagus, and she also knew he had been in it many times. How were they supposed to escape the hands of her Lord, with nowhere to go, nothing to fight with and no strength to keep going?

Lost in her desperate thoughts, she heard the soft scraping of leaves and twigs when it was already too late.

A huge man stepped in front of her, a golden tattoo on his forehead indicating her who he was, or rather, who he served. Startled at his appearance, but scared of what he might do, she positioned herself between the stranger and the still figure lying on the ground. "Please... do not hurt him," she whispered pleadingly. "Why are you here?"

Teal'c frowned at her, trying to resist the urge to shove the woman aside and drop to his knees next to his friend to check upon him, but unwilling to do so in order not to scare the Lotar slave. "I will not harm you."

"You are First Prime of Apophis. What are you doing here? Is he also attacking my Lord?" Shallan stammered.

Sighing in understanding now, Teal'c smiled reassuringly at her. "I was once Apophis' First Prime, yes. But I have chosen another path. I am his friend." Motioning at the quiet figure behind her, Teal'c slowly moved forward.

"No!" Shallan called out, unsure of the situation. "Do not harm him... he has been hurt too much already."

"I am his friend. I am here to provide help. Allow me to assist you, we must leave this planet." This time, Teal'c slowly but determinedly knelt next to O'Neill, his gentle hands already probing, touching, searching for injuries. He was shocked by the sight of his friend.

Although there was plenty of damage showing on the clothing his friend was wearing, Teal'c found no injuries. O'Neill's skin, however, was ashen gray, despite the glistering of sweat rolling down his cheeks and despite the present fever. The fact that O'Neill didn't as much as flinch as a result of his actions worried the Jaffa even more. If he had not felt the faint heartbeat himself, he would have believed the man was dead. "What has happened?"

Shallan had taken in the gentle way the stranger had examined the unconscious man. It told her the man really meant no harm. "He was tortured," she said, her voice cracking as she tried to control her emotions. "There were troops, passing us earlier..." she pointed into the direction where she had heard them.

Teal'c looked up, alarmed. "When? Do you know how many?" he asked with a lower voice.

Shallan also started whispering. "Three or four, maybe ten minutes ago. I think they were going in the direction of the Stargate."

"Then we must be careful," Teal'c concluded grimly. "They shall return shortly, the DHD is permanently damaged."

She nodded. "I know. We could not escape... and Jack was unable to move any further. I barely managed to drag him here. "

"You did well. I will get us out of here," the Jaffa promised. He stood straight, took his staff and looked at the girl. "I will return. Please, remain quiet." With that comment, the tall man left.

Shallan waited, quietly, until she heard the unmistakable sound of staff weapons firing. Her eyes wide, she knew it would be the Jaffa firing at the guards, but how was she going to know who had won the fight? She shivered, feeling suddenly very alone and grasped the hand of the man lying next to her.

"Please..." a soft pleading voice forced her to switch her attention back to Jack. "Daniel, please..."

The Lotar bent closer, gently running a hand through his short, wet hair. "Shhh, it is all right now," she soothed.

His eyes snapped open, and she saw the despair shining through his dark brown eyes, as he looked at her, without really realizing where he was.

"We are safe," she whispered. "Everything is going to be okay."

Letting out a deep long breath, O'Neill noticed the trees around him, looked at the girl and then his memory fell back into place. They had escaped from that snake's hands, for now. Scanning his surroundings, his training kicked in. "We need to find a better hiding place," he croaked, and struggled to get up.

"We are getting out of here," Shallan told him. "A friend of yours has arrived."

Images of Daniel fresh in his mind, he glanced at her. "What friend?"

"A tall, dark man, golden tattoo... you do know him, right?" she worriedly looked at him.

Jack frowned. "Teal'c?" He wondered how his Jaffa friend had gotten here.

"Indeed, it is I, O'Neill," the familiar voice of the man in question startled both O'Neill and Shallan, as neither of them had heard him approach. Bending forward to offer a helping hand, Teal'c spoke up. "Can you walk? We need to move now."

"What about those guards?" the Lotar girl asked.

"They are no longer of our concern," Teal'c stated simply. "But we have to proceed quickly, before others are coming."

Too tired to think of how his friend had found him and what guards he was talking about, O'Neill simply grabbed the proffered hand and let himself being pulled up straight. "Lead the way, Teal'c," he said, stumbling and staggering.

Teal'c supported the swaying man by putting one arm around O'Neill's waist and, his staff in the other, he briefly looked over his shoulder at the Lotar slave. "Come."

Teal'c carefully led them through the woods, until he reached the area near the Stargate. He slowed down in order to survey the area, before taking them to the open field. He pressed the sending button on his radio. "We are in position now."

Three transport rings surrounded the trio, sending them up to the waiting Tok'ra vessel.

* * *

After a long and nervous time of waiting for a sign of life from Teal'c, the three people in the Tok'ra vessel anxiously watched the transport circle as Sam activated the rings at Teal'c's command. Although Teal'c had said that "they" were in position, those on the ship still had no confirmation on who "they" were.

The rings appeared and disappeared, exposing the tall Jaffa, supporting Colonel O'Neill. Behind them stood a young blond girl, who looked around her with a mixture of fear and hope in her eyes.

"Colonel!" Carter called out, rushing forward.

O'Neill barely managed to lift his chin to meet her gaze and attempted but failed in raising his hand to greet her. A wave of dizziness and fatigue overwhelmed him and, without the support of his friend, he would have hit the deck.

Teal'c, feeling his companion's strength fading away, gently guided O'Neill down.

General Carter started pulling the ship back. "We're moving out. Watch yourself," he warned the others.

Sam dropped to her knees next to her CO, worry etched on her face. "Sir?" she quietly asked, her eyes already examining him from head to toe. She took in the holes in his robe, the bloodstains around them and the way he was breathing, gasping, sucking in air as though he was hyperventilating. Carter gently took his pulse, and then placed the back of her hand against his cheek. "I don't sense a symbiote..." she suddenly called out. "What happened to Kanan, Sir?"

O'Neill was having a hard time staying focused. His psychological system was on a major overload, the relief that he was safe now being the final straw to completely wear him out. He didn't want to think about anything anymore, didn't want to remember and definitely didn't want to talk. Normally he also didn't want his team to worry about him, but now, he couldn't care less. He was drained and slowly drifting away, and he didn't resist. His eyes closed, his muscles relaxed and darkness surrounded him.

"Sir?" Sam repeated, worriedly. She looked up. "He's unconscious. What happened?"

Shallan had been watching, tears rolling down her cheeks. "My Lord Ba'al tortured him, over and over," she choked.

Carter exchanged looks with Teal'c, the Jaffa's face grim from anger. The blond Major turned her attention back to the still form on the floor. Swallowing hard to suppress her emotions she carefully took her CO's vitals then checked for injuries. Finding no damage at all, she looked up to meet Teal'c's eyes again. 'He must have been placed in a sarcophagus," she concluded.

Shallan nodded. "Several times," she said. "Kanan came back for me..." Not being able to continue the Lotar slave sank to her haunches and sobbed uncontrollably now.

Jonas Quinn had been quietly watching the scene from a distance, allowing his team members some space but now he stepped closer, with a tissue in his hand and knelt next to the crying girl. "Here you go."

She took it, without looking up and wiped her eyes.

"I suggest we move O'Neill to one of the bunks, he will be more comfortable," Teal'c said before bending forward to pick up the still form of his CO.

Carter nodded, and got to her feet to lead the way. Looking over her shoulder, she noticed Jonas and the girl stayed where they were. The Jaffa was following her and they moved to another compartment of the vessel, where Teal'c gently placed the unmoving body of his CO on a bench. Carter already moved to roll him onto his side, so the unconscious man wouldn't accidentally swallow his tongue. "I'll go and get him some water, in case he wakes up," she told Teal'c before leaving.

The Jaffa nodded approvingly, and took his position next to his friend.

Sam had brought some water and, leaving Teal'c with their CO, she went to find the others.

Jonas Quinn was still sitting next to the Lotar slave, who was slowly calming down now. He looked up as his team mate arrived. "How is Colonel O'Neill?"

Carter shook her head slightly, sorrow in her eyes. "Not well. He's unconscious. We need to get him home as quickly as possible." She walked over to her father, who was still behind the control panel of the vessel, noticing that Jonas and the girl were following her.

Jacob turned his head when he heard her approach. "How is Jack doing?"

"Not good," Sam repeated. "I think Kanan is dead, I don't sense him. All we know is Ba'al tortured Colonel O'Neill, using the sarcophagus to heal him."

"Damnit," cursed General Carter. "This should never have happened."

Jonas, peeling a banana, looked at the blond girl. "Do you know what happened to Kanan?" he asked before taking his first bite.

"He came back for me," Shallan started to explain. "I didn't recognize him at first and we had to move quickly... We escaped from the fortress, were running for our lives, back to the Stargate..." She swallowed hard and closed her eyes at the memory.

"Did he tell you who he was?" Jacob asked.

"Yes, he said he was Kanan," the slave nodded, meeting the Tok'ra General's eyes. "He..." she hesitated, her expression showing the devastation. "He looked so different... his voice was different... I first didn't believe it was him... I thought it was a trick."

"What happened next?" Major Carter asked gently.

"My Lord's troops were following us... I stumbled and fell," Shallan had to take another pause before she could continue. "Kanan pulled me up... We reached the DHD, then Kanan was shot in the back. I assumed he was dead. They dragged me back and threw me in a cell."

Jonas had finished his banana and glanced at Sam. "Do you think that Kanan left Colonel O'Neill?"

Sam shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe," she opted.

General Carter agreed. "It is most likely that he did, in order to protect the information he carried about the Tok'ra."

"So first Kanan forces Colonel O'Neill to undertake a personal rescue mission, despite the fact that the Colonel was only a temporary and unwilling host, then when the situation got dire, he abandoned him to protect the Tok'ra? What about protecting the host, in this case?" Jonas snapped angrily.

General Carter grimly stared back at the new member of S-1, remaining silent.

"So Ba'al revived the Colonel," Sam decided to break the tension. She turned to the Lotar slave. "What else do you know?"

The Lotar closed her eyes again. "My Lord wanted information. He has... methods to get what he wants. But I do not think he succeeded, otherwise your friend would not be alive now."

Wincing, Sam let out a deep breath. She couldn't help feeling partially responsible, since she was the one convincing her CO about accepting and receiving a symbiote in the first place. "Where are we going?" she asked her father.

"Back to where I picked you up," the General explained. "From there, you can all gate home. It's the fastest way I can get you there. I already informed the SGC that you are coming."

* * *

Colonel O'Neill slowly awakened, caught in vivid memories of what he'd been through. His body hurting in many places, he thought he was still trapped in the never-ending cycle of Ba'al's torture sessions.

_Why wasn't this over yet?_

He had asked Daniel to end this, hadn't he?

Why didn't Daniel stop this?

"Daniel..." he softly moaned in despair. "Daniel, please..."

Something cool touched his face, his temples and forehead. What was Ba'al up to now? It felt good, since he suddenly realized how hot he was.

"O'Neill. It is I, Teal'c," a familiar voice tried to reach his confused mind.

Shaking his head in denial, Jack didn't believe what he was being told, until the coolness was back on his forehead. It felt good, refreshing, it felt different. Slowly, he forced his eyelids to open and confusedly met the worried gaze of the Jaffa. He kept staring at the familiar face of his friend, then blinked a couple of times, reassuring himself that Teal'c was still there. "Hi," he finally croaked.

The Jaffa smiled briefly. "You are safe now, O'Neill," he said. "We are in General Carter's vessel and he is taking us home."

Jack slowly scanned his surroundings, still seeking proof that he really was safe. Vaguely he remembered Teal'c's arrival on the planet, when he'd been hiding in the forest with the Lotar slave. His eyes suddenly widened. "Where is the girl?"

"She is also here, O'Neill. Do not worry," the Jaffa quickly informed him before holding the canteen with water in front of his friend. He gently placed one arm behind O'Neill's neck to assist him in sitting up.

O'Neill took the canteen with a trembling hand, lifted it to his mouth and sipped. He still couldn't comprehend what had happened and how he'd ended up here, but he was too exhausted to wonder about it. Frightened, he looked up when footsteps approached, afraid his mind was playing tricks on him and that in reality it were Ba'al's guards coming to get him once more.

It was the Carters, however.

The female half of the family immediately rushed forward, concern etched all over her face. "Sir! How are you feeling?" She was beside him in an instant, her slender fingers already searching for a pulse on his wrist.

"Like I should have stayed dead, Major," O'Neill said, feeling too worn out to try to convince her he was fine.

Sam placed a cool hand on his forehead. "You're running a pretty high fever. How many times were you in the sarcophagus, Sir?"

O'Neill tiredly leaned his head back against the wall, closing his eyes so he didn't have to look at her. "You know me and numbers, Carter," he tried, but no sting of sarcasm made it to his voice. "I lost count after twelve..."

Sam winced, as she tried to comprehend what her commanding officer had been through. She could only guess what Ba'al had been doing to him, but, based on their previous experience with Daniel's repeated use of the sarcophagus back on P3R 363, she had a pretty good idea of what was yet to come. Desperately, she looked over her shoulder, searching her dad's face.

"We'll get you home as soon as possible, Jack," Jacob spoke softly.

"In the neighborhood again?" O'Neill asked quietly, gesturing slightly at the Tok'ra General.

Jacob Carter smiled gently at him. "You know I'd do anything to come to your aid," he said as convincingly as he could. Realizing the thin thread of trust between the two races had been severely damaged by the latest events, he knew that it was once again his job to play ambassador and knit another bridge between the Tok'ra and the Tau'ri, particularly the one he was talking to. "You just try to rest, okay?"

"Hmmm," was the only response, and O'Neill didn't protest as his Major gestured for him to lie back down.

* * *

About three hours later, the vessel reached its destination. Teal'c was all but carrying his CO as SG-1 stepped into the middle of the transportation circle.

"Take care of him," Carter ordered his daughter when he raised his hand for a temporary goodbye. "I'll be coming to the SGC within a couple of days, okay? First, I've got to take the girl to a safe place."

Sam nodded, shifted her gear, and waved back.

The Tok'ra General activated the rings and SG-1 found themselves transported down to the planet three of them had been on before.

Sam's eyes darted from the left to the right as she instinctively scanned the area for possible danger, while she ordered Jonas Quinn to dial home. Looking at her other team mates she reassured herself that Teal'c was managing in dragging the barely conscious Colonel before she took out the GDO to punch in the right code to open the iris.

The team waited for the acknowledgment, then disappeared through the squirming wormhole, heading for home, at last.


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: a part of this story overlaps with what we saw in the episode. But the rest... is what we were all wondering about and this is what I think happened ;-)_

_Enjoy..._

* * *

General Hammond stood at the bottom of the ramp waiting, with Janet Fraiser beside him. Two orderlies were standing behind them with a gurney and after one silent order from the CMO they rushed up the ramp to meet up with the team that was coming home.

Teal'c and Jonas gently lifted the now limp form of their CO onto the gurney, then stepped aside to make room for the doctor.

Fraiser quickly ran her routine vitals check, and then instructed the orderlies to take their patient to the infirmary.

Hammond hadn't spoken one word since SG-1's arrival, but now that the team was about to follow the doctor, he quickly stopped them. "Well done. What happened?"

Major Carter stopped briefly, ready to give her update. It was Teal'c however, who interrupted her.

"I suggest that Major Carter follows Doctor Fraiser to the infirmary to remain close to O'Neill. Jonas Quinn and I will provide you with the details on what has transpired."

Carter threw a grateful smile at her friend and rushed out of the Gate room, while Teal'c and Jonas followed General Hammond towards the briefing room.

* * *

Major Samantha Carter had been pacing impatiently, waiting for her friend and doctor to come out of O'Neill's room to give her more specific information on the Colonel's condition.

Finally, Janet came out, and Sam immediately stepped forward, looking questioningly at the female doctor.

"He's resting," Fraiser started, brushing some hair from her forehead. "There is no trace of the injuries he sustained during the time that he was captured, the sarcophagus took care of that. What's got me worried for now is that his whole body chemistry is messed up from the extended use of that freaking alien device."

"Like with Daniel," Carter nodded in understanding.

"Yes," Janet continued. "As we've seen with Daniel, the Colonel's test results are all off, elevated endorphin level, electrolytes, blood pressure and temperature... He will most likely suffer from similar withdrawal symptoms as Daniel went through. The only thing I'm hoping for is it to be less severe this time. I'd really hate to have to restrain him at this moment..."

Carter stared at her, understanding. "Daniel was completely healthy when he took his rounds in the sarcophagus."

"I'm hoping for that to make the difference," Fraiser acknowledged. "With the Colonel, it has been a whole other situation. The sarcophagus was used to heal, maybe even revive him instead."

"Did Colonel O'Neill give you more information on what has happened?" Carter had to ask, despite knowing that if he had, Janet wouldn't tell her any details.

"No." Janet shook her head. "He's not very responsive and I wasn't planning on pushing him. But from the clothing he was wearing I can tell that he's at least been shot in the back by a staff weapon, plus I think stabbed in the chest... more than once." She paused, to shake off the image of her patient, and friend, being harmed in a way she couldn't possibly come to understand. "There are also chemical traces on the robe he was wearing... I've sent it off to the lab for some tests, to determine what it was."

Closing her eyes for a second to take in what she'd just been told, Sam opened them again to search Janet's face. "What's gonna happen next?"

Fraiser shrugged. "Let's take one step at a time here. First, we help him through the withdrawal, which will be bad enough to start with on his already depleted system. I can't give him anything until I have more information about what else might be affecting him, plus he pretty much made me vow not to drug him..." She sighed at the memory of O'Neill grabbing her wrist when he had pleaded with her not to pump him full with medication. "So I am respecting his wishes, until I have no other choice. Now, more than ever, he needs to regain some control over his life, and come to realize that there are still people he can trust."

Carter nodded silently. "Can I go and sit with him?"

"Yes, of course," Fraiser agreed. "He's asleep at the moment, but it will do him good knowing there are people around who care about him." She checked her watch. "I've got some stuff to do, then I'll pick up the first round of test results. Let's say, in two hours, I want you out again, so I can do some more tests, okay?"

Sam nodded and quickly rushed towards the room where her commanding officer was sleeping. She watched him quietly, taking in the deathly pale skin and the slight shivers that were affecting his hands once in a while. Grabbing a chair, she pulled it closer to the bed and sat down.

Almost two hours later, her name was being called over the intercom. "Major Carter to the Control room. Major Carter to the Control room."

* * *

Colonel O'Neill was flying. He was surrounded by white clouds, and, lying on his back, he was peacefully floating through the sky.

It was a dream. Subconsciously, he knew that, but it was an escape from reality, from what would become eternity if nobody put an end to it.

The clouds were soft. It felt like a huge pile of fluffy pillows, and he was comfortably lying on top of them.

He was surrounded by silence and peace.

The nasty voice of his tormentor was banished from his memory for a while. He also didn't have to listen to his own soft moans and groans. His heart wasn't raging from anger, anger at certain snakes, and one in particular. Anger directed at himself, for having ended up in this situation in the first place.

Just pure silence.

_What would it be like, to ascend, to what Daniel had become and had offered him?_

The question ran through the back of his mind, but Jack was too tired to really think of the consequences. It was all he could do to momentarily enjoy the image he had managed to create for himself, to escape the horror that was his world, the never-ending circle of dying and resurrection.

He floated, peacefully, his hands imaginarily folded under his neck. Slowly he drifted, along with the breeze that pushed, blew against the white bundle of clouds. Taking slow, deep breaths, O'Neill relaxed and enjoyed the moment, fully aware that soon, all too soon, the lid would open and his dream would once again prove to be his worst nightmare.

* * *

Major Samantha Carter was in search of her team mates. After stopping in the Control room, she'd been to the General's office and the briefing room, only to find them gone. She went to Jonas' lab, then finally headed for the infirmary.

That's where she found them, in Colonel O'Neill's room, and they both approached her quietly as she stepped inside.

"We have to leave," she informed them softly, not wanting to wake up the sleeping man on the bed. "Doctor Fraiser is coming in to run some more tests. We'll come back later."

Jonas nodded.

"What is O'Neill's condition?" asked the Jaffa.

"Doctor Fraiser says he'll probably suffer withdrawal symptoms from so much time in a sarcophagus, but otherwise she expects a full recovery," Carter said, giving them the short version of what Janet had told her.

"What happened to the woman he went back for?" Jonas wanted to know, only now realizing he'd spent a couple of hours with the Lotar slave without even asking her name.

Carter, having just spoken to her father in the Control room, knew the answer to that. "Her name is Shallan. She decided to stay with the Tok'ra."

Teal'c nodded in understanding. "So she may continue Kanan's fight in his name..."

A soft, awfully weak voice startled the three members of SG-1. "Hey... I'm trying to sleep here..."

They turned around, banishing all concern from their faces, smiling reassuringly at their commanding officer.

"Sorry, Sir," Sam said gently. "Glad to see you're okay."

O'Neill tiredly stared at his friends. "Listen..." He knew he couldn't go back to sleep without thanking them for providing him with an opportunity to escape. "Was a good idea you had there..."

"Actually, Sir," Carter said. "We all contributed to it." She walked around the bed, approaching her CO. "Do you need anything or..."

"Water," was the only thing O'Neill could think of.

"Sure," Sam smiled. She left, the others following her out the room.

* * *

Daniel Jackson had anxiously been waiting for a brief moment to reappear in front of his friend without witnesses. He'd been following the whole rescue from a distance, relieved to finally find his friend alive, although far from well, back at the SGC.

He had to go, continue his journey, but was reluctant to do so without making sure that Jack really was going to be all right, or at least on the road to recovery.

With Sam in search of water, and mysteriously, the closest faucet being of order, Daniel Jackson grabbed his chance and showed up at the bed of his visibly drained and hurting friend. "I always seem to be saying goodbye to you."

Jack wasn't surprised at all by his appearance, but slightly shifted to look at the ascended man. "Yeah, I noticed that. Why don't you stick around for a while?"

Shrugging helplessly, Daniel wasn't happy to turn his friend down. "I can't... really."

"You just did," O'Neill tried.

"Special occasion," the former linguist explained.

"Christmas?"

"No."

"Ground Hog's Day?"

A little bit of the old Jack was shining through as he tried bantering Daniel, like he'd always done, but the ascended man wasn't fooled by the weary expression and slight tremble in the voice of the man lying motionless on the bed. Yet he played along. "Noooo..."

"I've got my journey, you've got yours?" Jack attempted to understand.

"Something like that, yeah," Daniel nodded. It hurt him to have seen what had been done to the best friend he ever had, to have been unable to be of any help. He knew that despite the rescue, there was still a difficult time coming for Jack and he hated that he couldn't stay to be there and help his friend through this.

"Look, I know you don't think so... right now, I mean I know you have your doubts, but uh... because you've been through something that no one should have to go through..." It was not up to Daniel anymore, it was something he wasn't supposed to interfere with. Jack would have to find his own way. Somehow, however, Daniel knew his friend would manage. Jack always did, it was what made him the strong person that he was in the first place. "I guess what I'm trying to say is ... you're gonna be all right."

"How do you know?" Jack looked doubtful.

"You're just gonna have to trust me," Daniel smiled.

"I can do that," Jack weakly responded as he was getting tired. "You gonna be okay?"

"I'm gonna be fine," the former member of SG-1 reassured him and then disappeared, hoping he'd at least given his friend something to hold on to, something he could believe in, in his struggle yet to come.

* * *

Carter had found a working faucet and filled a glass of water. She quickly brought it back to Colonel O'Neill's room, before Doctor Fraiser would come to kick her out for the Colonel's next round of tests.

She walked back inside, noticing her CO was almost drifting off to sleep. She pondered about helping him drink, but knowing how he hated to be dependant, she decided not to and placed the glass on the night stand. "Here you go, Sir."

O'Neill was fighting to keep his eyes open. "Thanks," he mumbled.

"Goodnight," Carter said, before leaving. She figured by the time she would be back, he would be sound asleep. She left the room, hearing him whisper another ' thanks '.

Heading towards the elevator she met Janet Fraiser in the corridor. Shaking her head, Sam met Janet's gaze. "He's drifting off to sleep, Janet," she informed the female doctor. "I'll be back later."

Janet nodded. "Give me an hour or so... Why don't you guys go and get something to eat, and then come back, okay?"

"We'll do that," Carter agreed then left the doctor to go and search her other team mates once again.

* * *

Three members of SG-1 and one Commanding Officer of the SGC entered the infirmary shortly after dinner-time. They all wanted to know more about Colonel O'Neill's condition, and waited for Doctor Fraiser to come out of the room.

It took another twenty minutes before the door opened and Fraiser stepped outside. Looking up at the waiting group, she smiled encouragingly.

"Doctor?" General Hammond immediately demanded. "How is Colonel O'Neill doing?"

Her chart in her hand, Janet led them inside her office. She'd informed them on her patient's condition before, so they knew a little of what to expect. "Colonel O'Neill's latest tests confirm what we've been predicting. His chemical levels are all mixed up," she looked around the group listening to her explanation. "Amongst others, his blood-pressure and endorphin level are rising, and he's running a fever hovering around 104. Based on our experience with Doctor Jackson, we know the signs of withdrawal will last for about three days and it will all get worse first before we're on the road to recovery."

"Do you have any information on how Colonel O'Neill will respond to the withdrawal?" Hammond asked. "I remember Doctor Jackson becoming quite violent."

Fraiser glanced at him. "That is correct. I'm hoping however that this won't happen now. Doctor Jackson was longing both physically and psychologically for the sarcophagus. Colonel O'Neill's body might think it needs the device, but I'm sure the Colonel himself has other ideas."

"What does that mean, then?" asked Jonas Quinn.

"It means we have a better fighting chance," Janet said. "Basically I'm not worried about the withdrawal itself, but what it will do to him psychologically. After what Colonel O'Neill has been through, flashbacks for instance are a normal reaction to what happened. Within the stage of withdrawal, it can become too severe. Possibly, the Colonel won't know what's real and what isn't anymore."

Teal'c nodded in understanding. "I will remain close to assist him."

Looking thankfully at Teal'c, the doctor continued. "We'll just have to stand by and see what happens... try to keep him alert... at his own request I will only interfere with medication when I don't have another choice."

"Do you have the lab results on those stains on the robe he was wearing?" Sam suddenly wondered.

Fraiser winced. "Yes."

Carter looked at her, frowning. "And?"

"Those holes in his clothing were caused by some sort of acid."

"Acid? What kind of acid?" Carter asked.

"A hydrofluoric acid, stronger than anything we've ever seen." Janet lowered her head and stared at the floor. "If that stuff has been dropped on his chest... it would have slowly burned its way through his body..."

"Oh my God!" Sam called out, her eyes widened with shock.

Jonas hissed out loud. Teal'c remained standing stoically, but any close observer could see the anger he was containing.

Hammond had closed his eyes, but regained control quickly. "What do we do now, Doctor?"

"The Colonel is sleeping at the moment, but I doubt his rest will last long," Fraiser gratefully concentrated on the task at hand, banishing the thought of anything else from her mind. "I suggest you all take turns in staying with him, along with members of my staff. Somehow, we will have to survive the next seventy-two hours, dragging him through."

Three heads nodded determinedly.

The fourth looked around. "All right. Jonas Quinn, I want you to go to your quarters and get some sleep. When you've rested enough, you can relieve Major Carter." Hammond prepared to leave the room, and threw one last glance at his CMO. "Keep me informed." With that he left, and headed for his office.

Janet clapped her hands. "Okay, you heard the General. Jonas, I want you out of here for the next six hours. Get some sleep." Only when he complied did she turn towards the remaining two members of SG-1. "Come."


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: thank you guys, for reviewing, you are amazing! I hope I have replied to everyone who has left the review while logged in, if not.. and also all guests, please know that all your comments are truly appreciated!_

_hope you all enjoy the next chapter..._

* * *

Janet Fraiser finished her evening walk through the infirmary, heading for her office as one of her nurses came running around the corner.

"Doctor... it's Colonel O'Neill."

Responding immediately, Fraiser sprinted, following the nurse. Approaching O'Neill's room she already heard him screaming.

"Out! Get it out!"

She burst into the room to find her patient sitting up, agitated, fighting against the strong arms of Teal'c that were trying to hold him still. Carter stood at the other side of the bed, unable to help.

"A flashback, Doctor," the nurse quickly informed her. "We're barely able to keep him in bed."

O'Neill's eyes were wide open and his gaze was, although dazed, furious. He was fighting hard to pull free from the strong Jaffa's grasp and used his legs to kick at anybody approaching him. His voice was rough from shouting and the words were just a mix of, 'get it out', 'no' and 'god-damned snake, get off me'.

Janet moved forward, although she made sure staying out of his feet's range. "Colonel O'Neill," she spoke up firmly. "Wake up, Sir. Come on. It's a dream. Colonel?"

He didn't hear her and kept struggling, twisting and turning in an attempt to break free.

"He's not aware of us," Carter said.

"Colonel! Stop it. You're safe, back at the SGC. The Tok'ra is gone. Sir, this is Janet Fraiser, wake up!" Janet almost had to shout to hear her own voice over his, but her words had no effect at all.

"O'Neill does not realize where he is," Teal'c said, without letting go. "All attempts to arouse him have not succeeded."

"You want a sedative, Doctor?" the nurse asked.

Fraiser firmly shook her head. "No. We need to wake him up. Colonel!"

The nurse desperately looked from one person to the other, unsure of what to do. Carter had stepped aside to give Janet more room.

Teal'c was having trouble restraining his CO, but did not let go.

O'Neill's voice was hoarse and weak from calling out and he sucked in air. His movements slowed down as his whole body shuddered from the exertion.

Teal'c felt the strength of his friend fading and looked up to meet Fraiser's eyes.

"Jack?" Janet urged. "You're safe. The Tok'ra is gone, I promise. Now wake up!"

Giving up his fight for a bare second, O'Neill surprised them with his next move as he threw his head back, butting the Jaffa hard on the chin.

Teal'c, unprepared for the sudden impact, staggered back, and needed a split moment to regain his balance.

It took O'Neill only one other yank to pull free from the hands that were grasping him and he ducked sideways. "Damn snake," he mumbled, stumbled out of the bed and crashed to the hard infirmary floor. Still swinging his arms and kicking with his feet he tried to stay out of reach of Teal'c, who had regained his composure and now tried to approach him again.

When Sam wanted to rush forward, Fraiser held her back. "Stay there." She stepped around the bed, although moving slowly. "Colonel O'Neill!" she shouted. "Calm down. Wake up, Sir."

It didn't work.

O'Neill hit everything that came within his reach, including the wall behind him. The way he was repeating the "No, no, no..." was heart wrenching to the ones present in the room.

Due to the commotion nobody had heard the door open, so his stern voice surprised everybody.

"Colonel O'Neill! Stand down. That's an order." General Hammond had only needed a few seconds to take in the scene in front of him, knowing all attempts to reach his Second had failed so far.

The sharp order seemed to have made the difference as Jack gave up fighting, his head snapping up straight to attention, his eyes wide with confusion. Not completely aware of the situation, he still objected. "Over my dead body."

"At ease, Colonel," Hammond repeated sternly.

The turmoil in the dark brown eyes was evident as O'Neill stared from his CO to the female doctor, to Carter and then to Teal'c. His shoulders slumped and he moaned softly. "Arrrgghh."

Janet wanted to check upon her patient, but was still afraid that her approach would trigger a bad response. Slowly she moved, her worries for his condition greater than the fear for another episode with flashbacks.

"Colonel, you're safe. These people are here to help. I'm ordering you to let them," General Hammond spoke firmly.

Jack frantically looked around before finally giving in. "Oh, God," he groaned. The bile was building up in his throat and soon he found himself gagging, then retching the content of his upset stomach all over the floor.

Fraiser now rushed forward and started rubbing her patient's back. "Easy, Sir. Easy."

Hammond, satisfied that the situation was under control, gave O'Neill some privacy by silently leaving the room.

Teal'c and Carter refrained from moving. They watched how Doctor Fraiser worked with O'Neill and remained close just in case their assistance would be needed.

* * *

General Hammond, still in his office late at night, stared at the papers lying in front of him on his desk. The coffee standing there was cold, forgotten from the moment his secretary had brought it to him.

He was worried.

It was another one of these moments, when it sucked to be the commander of a whole base. One of his people, and a very close one at that, was struggling through an extremely difficult process as a direct result of the job and there wasn't a damn thing he could do to help.

No matter how it happened, on world or off world, as long as they were serving under_ his_ command it meant that he was responsible.

It was a no-win situation, being responsible without being able to do any more than he could do. He took all possible precautions, provided his teams with all possible resources and back-up, and made sure they were trained well. That was all he could do, after that it was pretty much out of his hands.

But he cared.

He cared about every single airman he sent through the gate, and suffered silently for each, when something went wrong.

There wasn't much he could do for his Second, but he refused to go home until he knew Colonel O'Neill would be all right. At least, as all right as it would get. He needed only snippets and pieces of the story to realize what had happened, he'd seen more than just happiness in his career to get to the rank of General.

So he stayed on base, and tried to withhold himself from calling the infirmary every thirty minutes.

He looked at his watch. It was almost an hour since last time he'd called. It would be okay for him to make the call now, wouldn't it?

With one deep sigh he grabbed the phone and pressed the right buttons.

* * *

Major Carter quickly approached the bed as she heard a deep groan, telling her the Colonel was waking up again. He had been out of it for only fifteen minutes or so, and it had been barely enough for the people around him to get a breather.

Teal'c had left, to get them something to eat and drink from the canteen.

Putting on an encouraging smile, she watched as the Colonel opened his eyes. "Hi, Sir."

He blinked a couple of times, confusedly looking around before staring at her in amazement. "Carter?"

"Yes, Sir. It's me," she told him.

He stared at her, obviously disoriented and not aware of where he was or why. Then his body started shuddering and one arm quickly moved towards his midsection, pressing it protectively around the sore area. He moaned. "Argghh."

Sam immediately grabbed a basin, as she already recognized the symptoms. She was just in time to hold it under his chin, as he rolled onto his side, pulling his knees up and started heaving. There wasn't much left in his stomach, but his body still rebelled forcefully, trying to get rid of as much as possible.

Carter waited patiently, placing one hand on his shoulder, then moved her hand to his back and started rubbing it gently. The heaves finally ceased and she already had a cold wet cloth to wipe him clean before discretely placing the basin out of sight.

O'Neill rolled onto his back, one hand moving to cover his face. "Damn," he mumbled. "What's.. happening?"

Sam pulled the chair closer and sat down next to him. "You're sick, Sir. Janet says it's gonna take a little bit longer before you start feeling better. Just... try to relax, Sir. We'll be here to help."

He lowered his hand to glare at her, then rolled to his side again, groaning as he did so.

She looked at him, worriedly. "Where does it hurt, Sir?"

He didn't look back, but kept his eyes closed instead. He pulled his knees back up and folded his arms around his waist. "A little bit longer?" he asked with a trembling voice.

"Yes, Sir."

"Crap."

* * *

"He's sleeping. We're reaching the final stage of the withdrawal now," sighed a visibly drained and exhausted Doctor Fraiser.

Teal'c slowly bowed his head in acknowledgement. "I believe you are correct, Doctor Fraiser." Although the Jaffa had barely left his friend's side for an hour or two during the last 72 hours, he looked as fresh as if he'd just performed Kel'no'reem. "You may rest now. I shall remain here."

Fraiser looked up. "Don't you need some rest?" she asked against knowing better. She was pleased to at least have been able to order the other two members out just a while ago, but as usual, her commands had had no effect on the Jaffa.

"Do not concern yourself over me," Teal'c said reassuringly. "I shall see to O'Neill's needs while you rest."

Fraiser gave in, knowing her patient was on the mend, at least concerning the withdrawal. She knew there was another long road waiting where the Colonel would need her. Trusting the Jaffa to not only look after her patient but call her when needed, she figured now might be a good time to take a few hours of rest herself. "I'll be back in five hours. Let someone wake me if you need me."

Teal'c nodded and watched her go. It was the first time in those long hours that he was alone with O'Neill, who was finally sleeping quietly. The Jaffa was confident that the first stage was coming to an end.

Teal'c sat down on the floor, crossed his legs and placed his hands on his knees. He knew any sound or movement would startle him, so he allowed himself to concentrate on a light state of Kel'no'reem.

It was probably two hours later when his eyes snapped open. Something had alarmed him and he stood up. When he approached the bed he noticed some movement. His friend was waking up.

O'Neill's eyes slowly fluttered open, staring at the ceiling, dazed and confused until recognition set in. Slowly his eyes searched their way across the room and soon they rested on the of the Jaffa's dark ones. O'Neill gave him a weak smile, then struggled to get up.

Teal'c stepped closer. "What is it that you need, O'Neill?" he inquired. "Do you want some water?"

Shaking his head, the weakened man grabbed the sides of the bed and pulled until he was sitting up straight. Although wavering and sweating from the exertion, he motioned with one trembling hand. "I... want... out..."

Teal'c frowned in surprise. "Do you wish to get out of bed?"

O'Neill nodded, moving his hand again to point into the direction he wanted. "Sit... on... floor for... a while."

Whether Teal'c was wondering about his CO's demands or not, he did not show it. He just moved to lower the rail of the bed, assisted his friend to get out and guided him until he was sitting on the floor, leaning with his back against the infirmary wall. "Is this sufficient, O'Neill?"

"Hmm," Jack said, slowly breathing in and out. Although only half as much as it had been, the world was still spinning, feeling as if a large wheel was turning and turning inside his skull. His stomach growled, and, while empty for a long time now, the heaves were coming back, making him shudder, moan and sweat profusely.

Teal'c remained close by, and waited patiently until the heaves ceased. "I will get you some water," the Jaffa stated.

"No..." Jack shook his head weakly. "It will... only come out..."

"Perhaps it will be easier to spit water than nothing, O'Neill," Teal'c suggested, holding the cup in front of his friend's face.

Still looking doubtful, the Colonel nevertheless took the cup and sipped slowly, before throwing the remaining part over his head. Wiping his face with his trembling hand, Jack took a long, deep breath and closed his eyes. "I can't... do this anymore, Teal'c."

Staring at his friend, taking in the defeated and worn expression, Teal'c gently placed his hand on O'Neill's shoulder. "You are reaching the final stage of withdrawal, O'Neill. You are faring well."

"Faring well?" Jack asked angrily.

"It takes much strength to fight this, O'Neill," the tall alien explained confidently. "You are succeeding, and you _will_ overcome this.

"I... I don't think I can... do this anymore..." talking was taking a lot of effort of the seated man. "Why... go through all this trouble... what for?"

Teal'c frowned. "I do not understand, O'Neill."

Jack opened his eyes, his gaze lost and desperate as he met the Jaffa's eyes. "I'm... too tired, Teal'c. I don't want to do this... anymore. There is nothing... left for me to fight for... so why bother?"

"I see," the Jaffa nodded slowly. He replaced the empty cup with a full one before he sat down next to his friend, taking in a similar position with drawn knees, arms resting lightly on them. "Perhaps it is time for you to fight for yourself, my friend."

Stunned, Jack lifted his head. "What?"

Teal'c carefully thought on how he was going to respond, and which words he would use. Keeping his voice low but gentle, he finally spoke up. "You are a man of honor, O'Neill. You have given up everything for your world, made great sacrifices for it. You have given all there is to give, perhaps even more. As the leader of SG-1 you have made your choices, taken it upon your responsibility to carry the entire the burden for us, despite the cost. During the time I have served with you I have seen you do everything that needed to be done, without regarding your own needs..."

The Jaffa paused, thinking on how to continue. "I believe now the time has come for you to forget about what others need or expect of you. This is something you need to do for yourself."

Jack lifted his brows. "Why?"

A faint smile formed on the Jaffa's lips. "Because your soul is worth saving, my friend. You are a good man."

"No, I am not," the protest was soft.

"You are," Teal'c repeated. "I do not understand why you think otherwise."

"You sound like Daniel..." Jack spoke softly.

Teal'c raised a brow.

"You know... he came to see me..." O'Neill started. Whether it was under the influence of the withdrawal or due to his weakened emotional state of mind, he just had to talk about Daniel's appearance. "When I was... in that cell... He couldn't interfere, but he offered me ascension."

"You have mentioned Daniel Jackson quite some times during your disturbed rests," Teal'c nodded, understanding now.

"He... kinda told me the same thing... you just did." Jack wearily rubbed his eyes.

"Perhaps because it holds the truth," the Jaffa smiled.

"Daniel saw good in everybody he met," O'Neill objected defiantly.

"That might be true," agreed Teal'c. "But I doubt that he comes back to talk to everyone."

Jack fell silent for a while, thinking on what had just been said. He pressed his arm over his stomach as if to suppress the cramps still wracking his body. "Maybe he did that ... because I was his friend? And out of guilt?"

"You were indeed his friend," Teal'c said triumphantly. "But I am certain Daniel Jackson would not have offered you ascension if he did not believe in you."

O'Neill quietly sipped some more water. "Whatever..." he gave in, too drained to fight, even with words.

"As First Prime of Apophis I have done many things I regret deeply," Teal'c went on. "I can never make up to those I have harmed. I cannot rebuild the things I have destroyed. Most of all, I can not find sanctuary for all the grief my actions have caused."

"It was not your fault," O'Neill protested.

"That is how you see it, O'Neill. It is however not the way I feel," the Jaffa explained. "Whatever I have done has been done by me and by my choice."

"You _had_ no choice!" Jack interrupted, defending his friend.

"I did," disagreed Teal'c. "I could have chosen death."

"Dying is never a good plan," O'Neill softly argued.

Teal'c raised his brows in surprise. "Then why do you wish to give up now, O'Neill?"

O'Neill let out a long, deep sigh, then pulled a face. "Humph."

"When I was tortured by The'rok," Teal'c continued stoically. "I convinced myself it was a punishment for all of my deeds in the past. And while that was not The'rok's intention, it made it easier for me to overcome it. There is no reason and no justification for torture, except of the meaning you give it. Since you cannot change what has been done to you, you _can_ turn the event around in a positive way. Clarify your soul and it will make you stronger in the end."

"I don't know if I can do that..."

"You can," the Jaffa said confidently. "You have succeeded before and I believe you can do it again. Your body and spirit are too exhausted now, from the torture, the revivals and the withdrawal and it is clouding your judgment at this moment. You require rest, time to heal and to regain your strength. Then you will be able to face the path that lies waiting for you."

Resigning, Jack leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes.

"I believe the Tau'ri have similar methods of performing Kel'no'reem," Teal'c said. "Have you meditated before?"

A slight shake of the head told him the answer. "Then allow me to help you meditate, my friend. Your body and mind are in desperate need of some peace and it will help you to regain some strength."

Unable to resist or object, O'Neill complied by giving a faint nod.

* * *

After sleeping for five hours, Doctor Janet Fraiser re-entered the infirmary and rushed towards O'Neill's room to check upon him.

Approaching, she was pleased to find silence in the hallway. At least no horrible nightmares or flashbacks at the moment, she told herself.

As silently as she could, Janet turned the doorknob and softly opened the door. Stunned, she looked at the scene in front of her.

Both Colonel O'Neill and Teal'c were sitting on the floor, crossed-legged, hands resting on their knees. A couple of candles were placed around the two meditating men. She moved silently until she had a good look at her patient's face. Whatever Teal'c had achieved, it worked, she noted. O'Neill's face was quiet and almost peaceful. His eyes were closed, his cheeks still flushed from the fever but otherwise he looked better than he'd been since his return from Ba'al's planet.

Deciding not to interrupt the two men, Fraiser quietly closed the door, and, making sure not to make any sound with her feet, headed back to her office. Grabbing a piece of paper, she quickly wrote something on it, returned to O'Neill's room and taped it on the door.

It said: _Do not disturb_.


	9. Chapter 9

Thanx everyone for reviewing! I am on vacation, so unable to reply to everyone... Her is the next chapter posted from my phone... Hope this works! More when i return...

* * *

Jqonas Quinn headed for the infirmary to relieve his colleague from staying with their CO. Walking through the hallway he met Doctor Fraiser.

"Hi, Jonas," she greeted him.

"Doctor Fraiser," he said with a slight nod. "How is Colonel O'Neill doing?"

She smiled encouragingly at him. "It could be better, but he's at least through the withdrawal now. All his test results are showing a steady fall to normal readings, so he should start feeling a bit better, physically at least."

Jonas Quinn sighed with relief. "That's good to hear. I guess it's my turn to sit with him for a while now."

"Yes," the female doctor acknowledged. "Tell Sam to get some rest, I don't want to see her back in the infirmary for at least eight hours."

"I will try to convince her," Jonas said with a smile. "What about Teal'c?"

"He's in his quarters, to perform Kel'no'reem. It won't take him long though, before he's back. Are you going to be all right?"

"Of course," Jonas smiled convincingly.

Fraiser continued her route, calling over her shoulder. "Call me if you need me."

Quinn walked on, and entered Colonel O'Neill's room, to find Major Carter sitting in the chair next to the bed, silently reading in a magazine while the Colonel was sleeping.

Sam looked up. "Morning. Did you sleep well?"

"I did," nodded Jonas. "Now it's your turn. Doctor Fraiser wants you gone for eight hours." He pulled up another chair and sat down on the other side of the bed.

Yawning, Carter got up. "Okay. I could use some sleep now..." She pointed at the sleeping figure on the bed. "He's sleeping, for now, but he won't last long. He keeps waking up, usually in the middle of a nightmare, sometimes without knowing where he is or what's happened... Janet says it's going to be all right, however."

"It'll be okay," Jonas assured. "He's a very strong man."

"Yeah," added Sam, not sounding convinced at all, before walking out of the room. "Good luck."

Jonas silently watched the sleeping man, studying his face. The Colonel was looking deathly pale, and his cheeks appeared sunken, as if he'd lost too much weight.

The alien from Kelowna couldn't help but be impressed by the human race, how deeply they cared about each other. Major Carter had briefly explained to him what kind of man Colonel O'Neill was, but she'd also told him he had to get to know him by himself. She'd given him snippets of background information and he'd read all military books that were available, but it still didn't explain the strong bond between the people who were working here at the SGC.

Jonas had kept as much distance as he could, without completely being absent, because he figured it was his job as a member of this team, but he still tried to figure out whether the Colonel hated him or not. It hadn't been too difficult to find out how close the relationship between Colonel O'Neill and Dr. Jackson had been, and neither had he missed the tension that had been building up between him and the leader of the team. It was obvious that the man blamed him for Dr. Jackson's death, and, to be honest, Jonas still had a hard time not blaming himself.

He had vowed to himself to make things up to these people, for their loss, and do everything within his ability to fill up the empty spot Dr. Jackson had left behind. He didn't have the intention of getting as close to the Colonel as Dr. Jackson had been, but he sure hoped that he would be able to prove his value and at least become accepted by the older man.

Jonas was pretty sure he'd made the first good move by going back to Anubis's vessel, succeeding in opening the doors when the water had slowly filled up the whole ship. He wasn't proud of his actions, but just glad that he had decided to give it a go, and that it had worked out for the best. The words spoken by Colonel O'Neill, that all members of SG-1 were all right, had been the subtle acknowledgment for him that the Colonel was satisfied with his performance.

Now he needed to keep proving himself. Which was okay. He could live with that. One day, he would be accepted and have the respect as well. It had to wait, though. He knew his place. This wasn't exactly a good moment to step forward.

A soft moan dragged his attention back to where he was.

Colonel O'Neill was showing signs of waking up. Arms started moving around, thrashing, and soon the man started mumbling incomprehensibly.

Not sure of what to do now that he was alone with the sick man, Jonas rose to his feet and stepped closer to the bed. "Colonel O'Neill?" he asked, keeping his voice down.

The Colonel didn't respond, but was obviously having another bad dream. The words coming out of his mouth didn't sound familiar to Quinn, and he wondered what they meant.

"Colonel O'Neill!" Jonas tried again, hoping to get through. He stepped a bit closer, planning to place his hand on the Colonel's shoulder.

O'Neill's arm thrashed around, hand folded to a fist.

Before Quinn knew what happened, the fist hit him under his right eye, since he was too late to duck out of the way. Surprised at the strength of the blow, the alien briefly touched his cheek, and felt that the skin started glowing already. Then, as the weakened man still wasn't calming down but trying to get up instead, Jonas moved forward again, grabbing the Colonel by the upper arms and gently but steadily pushed him back into the pillows. "Colonel O'Neill? Wake up, please. You're dreaming."

The arms stopped waving around, shoulders sagging as all energy seemed to be fading and O'Neill allowed himself to be pushed back. His eyelids trembled, which was the first sign that he was waking up at last.

"Colonel?" Quinn tried again. "Are you awake now?"

O'Neill blinked, and then found the newest member of his team standing close by the bed. "Hi," he cracked a short greeting.

Quinn smiled. "Hi, Colonel. How are you feeling?"

"Tired..."

Jonas nodded. "I think a better word would be exhausted. Which is no surprise after what you've been through."

"Yeah," O'Neill said shortly. "Guess so."

"Look," the alien stammered. "If my presence is bothering you, please say so. I could go and get Teal'c..."

O'Neill made a faint gesture with an unsteady arm. "No... it's okay. Really."

"Can I get you something? Water?"

Jack nodded slightly, and, when Jonas came closer with the canteen, he pointed at the sides of the bed.

"You want to sit up a bit?" the alien quickly understood and already moved to lift the head-end of the bed until he thought it would be comfortable. He handed the cup over, and then waited patiently for his CO to finish sipping.

"You don't have to stick around..." Jack started, then had to pause to catch his breath. "No fun in watching an old man sleep..."

"That's okay, Colonel. I'll stay. Besides, Doctor Fraiser doesn't want you to be alone."

"Humph," O'Neill muttered. "That woman is way too demanding."

Jonas smiled at the faint sarcasm shining through in the older man's voice.

"Then," Jack pointed at the chair next to the bed. "You better sit down before your feet are taking root."

Quinn complied and sat down, not knowing what to do or what to say to his CO.

O'Neill stared at the youngest member of his team, and became suddenly aware of a slowly growing bruise on the man's cheek. Pointing at his own cheek, he asked the obvious. "What happened?"

Jonas' hand moved to touch the slightly swollen area as he quickly closed his eyes from embarrassment, then made a waving gesture with his hand. "Nothing, really, Colonel. I guess... I came a bit too close..."

Jack's eyes widened, then he gave a nod of understanding. "Ah. Sorry about that..."

"No problem. I should have been more careful," Quinn quickly reassured him.

"There's a lot of things for you to learn," O'Neill started. "One of them is being careful approaching your CO when he's sleeping. Take my word on it."

Jonas smiled. "That's something I won't forget anymore." Then, he dropped his head, thinking about all of the other things he yet had to learn.

Jack sensed his hesitation. "Hey... You're doing okay. Just give it some time."

Quinn looked up to meet the dark brown eyes.

O'Neill pulled a face. "I know I'm not being easy on you. I won't deny that I will need some time to get used to you. But it will be all right, really."

"Are you sure, Colonel?" Jonas asked. "I mean, I know how hard it must be for you, after losing Doctor Jackson and all... I know you blame me for that..."

"I don't blame you, Jonas," O'Neill quickly interrupted him. "It's just... that you're not _him_, okay? Every time I look at you, I really want to see him. The fact that you are one of the people of the planet where Daniel got killed doesn't really help matters either. But... what I'm trying to say here is that it will be ok. Let's just take one step at a time..."

The effort of speaking proved to be too much as the older man's eyes slowly closed, exhausted as he was, and he drifted off to another short period of restless sleep.

Jonas Quinn studied his CO's face for a while, wondering what made this man to what he was. It amazed him, that despite the situation he was in himself, the Colonel still had taken the time to reassure him that their relationship would be all right.

If only everything would turn out to be all right for the man himself, Jonas thought, as he whispered a soft thanks.

* * *

"How is Colonel O'Neill doing?" General Hammond asked upon stepping inside Dr. Fraiser's office.

The female doctor looked up from her charts, dropped her pencil on the desk and brushed some hair from her forehead. "Well, Sir... With the withdrawal symptoms from the extended use of the sarcophagus gone, Colonel O'Neill's vitals are slowly growing stronger. His blood pressure, temperature, electrolytes... all test results are almost back to normal. I've put the Colonel on IV-fluids to re-hydrate him after the three days of withdrawal and we're slowly trying to get his internal organs back to work with a light diet..."

Hammond nodded. "That sounds like good news."

"Yes," Fraiser agreed. "The physical recovery is going as we've expected. What I'm worried about right now is that Colonel O'Neill is unable to get the amount of sleep his body so desperately needs."

"Bad dreams... flashbacks..." the General summarized in understanding.

"Yes," Janet said. "He keeps waking up, trapped in nightmare after nightmare. Sometimes it takes about all we have to wake him up. The periods that he actually sleeps are less than thirty minutes and none of them have been restful up till now. If this situation continues much longer, the remarkable recovery he has made so far will be quickly undone. It will be a severe setback. I don't think I have to explain the symptoms and danger of sleep deprivation to you, Sir."

Hammond gave another slight nod, while brushing his chin with one hand. "No, you don't. The question is, what can we do about it?"

"Not much at the moment, Sir," Fraiser said with a soft sigh. "Colonel O'Neill is really trying hard to beat this, and his team is there to help him through, but it's just not enough right now. I don't even want to think about how he's coping at all, he's been through a lot and is basically too exhausted to have the energy to deal with it."

"Too much," the General interrupted the doctor, as a shiver ran over his spine.

"Excuse me, Sir?" Janet frowned.

"He's been through too much," Hammond explained, a sad expression covering his face.

"Yes, Sir. Too much," Fraiser softly agreed. "Anyway, I can give the Colonel some medication that will knock him out for a couple of hours, but, having discussed it with him, we agreed on only using that method when there's no other choice. Colonel O'Neill has been clear with his wishes to try and beat this first on his own, and I've granted that."

A faint smile formed on Hammond's lips. "Good for you, Doctor. Hopefully he'll pull through before you'll have to intervene."

"Yes, Sir. I hope so, too."


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N's: it's been a while since I posted another chapter. I couldn't, didn't think it was appropriate. Here's why:_

_I was on vacation in Italy. Toscane. Beautiful area, with lots of history, culture and of course, the best food Italians can offer._

_Visited medieval cities, like San Gimignano, Pisa, Siena and more and was amazed by the sheer beauty of it all. _

_Seeing the many torture museums it occurred to me how cruel people were in those days. _

_Then I came home. To a country in mourning. With the downing of flight MH-17 the Dutch lost 194 citizens. Whole families gone, as victims in a war that wasn't theirs. _

_To make matters worse, the situation at the crash site makes it extremely hard for us to do what we need to do, which is to bring the victims home. To their families, where they belong._

_After watching more news, about the war going on in the Ghaza area, about ISIS organization slaughtering people, about women being rape and hanged in India I realized something._

_I thought the Dark Ages ended decennia ago._

_I was never more wrong._

_We are living it. Today._

* * *

"Incoming traveler!"

The voice over the intercom warned the SGC personnel about the turning gate before the wormhole even established.

General Hammond already came running down the stairs to the Control room, demanding who it was before he reached the floor.

"We receive no signal, Sir," the airman behind the computers called.

"Close the iris," Hammond ordered upon stepping closer to view the Gate room from behind the glass window. He watched in satisfaction as heavily armed men already rushed through the blast doors, taking their positions.

The iris was closed and the airman behind the keyboard was still trying to get a signal, but shook his head, sensing the questioning look from the commander of the base standing behind him. "Nothing, Sir."

Frowning, Hammond stared at the closed iris, wondering who, or what could have dialed their address, worried as he was about the off world teams and the situations they might get into.

Then, slowly and gracefully stepping straight through the solid material the iris was made of, came a small woman, with bare feet, wearing primitive looking clothing and with wide curly hair. She stood still on the ramp, and gently waved a hand at the guards who were pointing their guns into her direction.

"Stand down," Hammond already ordered over the intercom when he recognized the visitor, then turned around to rush downstairs. Quickly, he strode through the blast doors and headed for the ramp, a friendly smile on his face. "Welcome, to the SGC, Lya."

The Nox woman gracefully bowed her head. "Thank you."

Gesturing into the direction of the doors, Hammond invited the visitor to follow him. "Please, come and tell me what brings you to Earth."

Lya made no attempt to follow him. "I've come to speak to Colonel O'Neill," she stated.

The General frowned. "Colonel O'Neill is in the infirmary. I'm afraid he's not doing too well at the moment," he briefly explained.

The Nox woman simply nodded. "That is why I wish to talk to him."

If he was surprised at all, Hammond didn't show it, but only complied by inviting her to follow him, guiding her through the corridors to the elevator and brought her to the infirmary.

* * *

Major Samantha Carter was in her quarters. She'd just slept for a couple of hours, after Dr. Fraiser had ordered her out of the Colonel's room. It had been difficult to fall asleep, knowing a very close friend was in desperate need of the same thing, struggling, but unable to rest because of the horrible nightmares that wouldn't leave him alone.

Every time the Colonel finally drifted off, his much needed rest never lasted longer than thirty minutes.

It hurt her, being there, seeing her commanding officer in distress like that.

It hurt her even more not being able to help him.

Jonas Quinn and she were taking turns in staying with their CO, while Teal'c hardly ever left at all. Truth being said, Sam had taken longer turns than Jonas, knowing all too well that the Colonel and Jonas didn't exactly had a great bond between them.

If only Daniel were here. Daniel always had had his own unique way to break through the barriers that the Colonel unconsciously built up when he was hurting.

She remembered changes of shifts on far away planets when she'd found the two of them together, the Colonel somehow sleeping either against Daniel's chest or in his lap. Sam smiled briefly to herself when she at first had suspected there was something going on, but soon enough she'd come to realize what the real reason was.

_God bless Daniel._

If there was anyone able to help the Colonel face his demons, it would be Daniel.

_But he wasn't here this time._

Teal'c was giving all he had to give, and so was she, and she doubted Jonas would be able to do more in this case.

It wasn't enough, though. The Colonel was slowly slipping away from them, drowning in his world of vivid nightmares. Their presence obviously wasn't enough.

If only...

Sam sank down on her bed, dropping her head in her hands. Was she doing enough?

There was always something holding her back, regarding her approach to Colonel O'Neill. This _was_ the military, after all. She had to keep her distance, especially after that incident with Anise's little Zatarc detection program. They had been lucky not having been split up after that and one of the reasons truly was the professional way they were both keeping their relationship.

Being honest to herself, she admitted she'd been there all right, but refraining from any physical contact, in order to emphasize their professional relationship. It was something the Colonel and she both did, as an unspoken rule, in order not to pour more fuel on the fire of rumors.

That didn't mean it didn't hurt. Commanding officer or not, she loved him. Regarding the fact that they would never have a real relationship, she wasn't even sure if that was the kind of love she felt for him. It was just there.

Besides, she'd always convinced herself, she'd loved Daniel as well. And in some strange way, she loved Teal'c, too. Maybe it had something to do with their role as SG-1 and the way they spent their time together.

She was the only woman, however. Therefore it was up to her to keep some distance, to remain as professional as possible towards her team mates. She'd managed that perfectly well so far.

It wouldn't do, this time. It was suddenly as clear as water to her. With Daniel gone, there was nobody left to really, really help the Colonel through this. For some reason she couldn't picture Teal'c sitting behind her CO, holding him in his arms. And Jonas was out of the question.

That left her.

_To hell with regulations. To hell with rumors._

She wasn't going to make love to him or anything. She was going to help him. Really help him. In a way Daniel would have done. There would be no professional relationship left if the Colonel didn't get over this anyway, so there was really nothing to lose.

Besides, he was her friend.

And she loved him.

Resolutely, Carter stood up, looked determinedly at her own image in the mirror, and then left her quarters, certain of her direction.

* * *

Jack was sitting up in bed. Janet had come in to inform him somebody was coming to see him and now he was waiting for the visitor. His face was pale, his eyes with dark circles around them giving him a ghost-like image. Staying awake took a whole lot of effort, as his body was in desperate need of sleep, but strangely enough staying asleep was something that proved to be impossible.

The fact that he was drained, bone-weary exhausted and so incredibly sleepy that he was barely able to keep his eyes open was pissing him off, especially since when his eyes finally did fall shut, his much needed rest didn't last long and was rudely disturbed by something he didn't really want to remember or live through again.

The nightmares were bad, the flashbacks too vivid for his mind to let go and it was eating away his strength, but more importantly, his spirit. O'Neill was slowly reaching the point to where he didn't care anymore, where he no longer could muster up the courage that was needed to beat this.

He'd made it this far on willpower alone, though, and, somewhere deep inside, a little voice was still challenging him to keep trying, pushing him far beyond his limits by calling on his stubbornness and pride.

That, and the conversation he'd had with Teal'c still fresh in his mind, plus the fact that all of his friends stayed close, refusing to give up on him, were the reasons he was still fighting, although barely. Jack had the scary feeling that, despite all that, he wasn't succeeding. That he was missing the final straw he needed to grasp. That with every step forward, he slid two steps back.

There was no Daniel to pull him out of the pit, out of the dark. Daniel was gone, and so was his ascended appearance, so even_ talking_ him out wasn't an option. If anybody could help him now, it would be Daniel. Not that he ever would have asked for help, but being asked was something the archaeologist had never needed, he'd just known when to be where and do what.

O'Neill remembered some of his last words, and how he had tried to believe them, tried to have faith in his friend. Daniel had said he was going to be all right, hadn't he? Jack kept repeating Daniel's words to himself, but truly longed for his ascended friend to come back and repeat them, as it was getting pretty damn hard to believe.

Wearily, the exhausted man looked up at the visitor who stepped into his room. Jack had expected about anybody, except for the small, gentle figure of the Nox woman he always liked and admired. "Lya," he greeted her weakly, too tired to raise a hand at her.

"Colonel O'Neill," Lya answered him with a brief smile. "I have come to see how you are doing."

"Well," O'Neill tried with his usual sarcasm. "There's been better days..."

The woman with the huge tuft of curling hair stepped closer. "I know," she acknowledged. "You have been a guest of the Goa'uld Ba'al."

"Since when is what I do or how I feel intergalactic knowledge?" Jack barked a bit sharper than intended as he wondered how this information could have reached Lya.

"You are of great importance to this world, O'Neill," Lya stated simply. "And to many more. I regret it that you had to live through whatever he has been doing to you."

"Humph," O'Neill tried to wave her off. "He killed me, put me in that damn thing and I'm back alive. Big deal."

She examined him thoroughly, taking in his pale and drained features and the almost empty expression that shone through his eyes. "Then why aren't you up, doing whatever it is you do normally?"

He glared at her, refraining from answering.

She smiled, not taken aback by his angry stare. "I came here to remind you of your role in the universe. To make sure you don't lose that what makes you what and who you are. That you don't let yourself drown in hate."

"Now why would I do that?" he snapped.

"Because it's a natural way to react," Lya explained. "Hate might keep you alive for a while, but it is destructive and will destroy you in the future. You cannot go on living with hatred filling your heart."

Too tired to make another witty comment, Jack sighed. "Well, that's going to be tough," he admitted, thinking on how he longed to simply rip that bastard's throat above anything else.

"I know," Lya nodded. "It's what makes the Goa'uld what they are today, and what will destroy them eventually. It is the opposite that makes one strong and able to survive and live in peace."

"The opposite?" O'Neill had to ask.

"Love, O'Neill," the Nox woman stated. "Love will conquer all."

Jack lifted his brows in surprise. "Love?"

Lya smiled at him. "What do you think makes your people different than the Goa'uld, O'Neill? Have you thought about that?"

He stared at her, wondering what she meant, 'cause no way on Earth could he picture himself feeling anything but hate towards those slimy snakeheads who thought they were gods, and used their power to rule over others.

"I know it is too much to ask of you to love your opponent," she said, apparently having read his thoughts. "It is the love you are showing for your own, and others, that makes the difference."

He pulled a face, and then shrugged helplessly. "Whatever you say," he commented dryly.

"Is it not true your race protects its own people, plus others they meet and feel connected to? Why is it that you went through a great effort to rescue the host of the Goa'uld Klorel? Why is it you took it upon you to assist the Tollan in surviving an attack by one of the System Lords? What made you decide to protect Kal'Aie of the R'Yol? You were very determined in helping our people and did not stop until Anteaus had convinced you we would be all right. Do I need to name more examples?"

Jack stared at her, then dropped his gaze, weakly making a nonchalant gesture with his hand. "Well..."

"Have you considered this, O'Neill? Why are you the way you are? Is the hope for gaining something out of the help you provide the first reason?" Lya searched his eyes, making sure he was paying attention to what she was saying.

"That would be a nice side-effect..." he confessed honestly.

The Nox woman gave him a faint smile. "Of course. But the main reason is because you _care_. It is exactly that quality which makes your race more mature. Only developing those faculties of love and care will lead your people to eventually become the fifth race."

Baffled, O'Neill looked at the peaceful woman besides his bed, trying to comprehend her message. "And you've traveled all the way through the universe to come here to tell me this..."

She nodded, then prepared to leave as her job was done.

"Why?"

Lya looked over her shoulder, showing him a mysterious smile.

"Ah," he gave in. "Should have guessed that. Out of love, right?" Taking in the way she looked at him, he had his answer. He smiled back at her, realizing once more how much he really liked these people. Managing to lift his tired arm he waved when she was about to leave the room. "Thanks."

"You're welcome, O'Neill. Get well soon. And remember... it's okay to receive some love and care once in a while as well..." With that final comment, Lya disappeared from the room.

* * *

Major Carter resolutely stepped inside General Hammond's office after knocking.

Hammond looked up from the pile of papers stacked on his desk. "Major Carter. What can I do for you?

Sam stammered, unsure of how to start. "I basically came here to inform you that I'm about to cross a line regarding the Air Force's rule about relationships between their personnel."

The General looked at her in surprise. "What exactly do you mean by that, Major?"

"Well, I know I should keep my relationship with fellow Officers strictly professional, and I always have, but I've decided to make an exception now, Sir. I know it's against the rules and I know that it's awkward, especially after the incident with the Zatarc technology, but I've made my decision. Colonel O'Neill is not doing well, and with Daniel gone, there's basically nobody that he can rely on. I'm going to get closer to him, hoping he will let me," Carter explained. "I don't care what the Air Force says, but I'm going to hold him if he needs me to, in order to help him through this crisis. If he can sleep in my arms, then I'm going to let him. If he's in need of a hug, then by God he's going to get it. I think if anybody deserves it, it is him."

Hammond sat silently watching the rambling Major in front of him.

Sam, taking in the way the General stared at her, prepared to leave the room, having said what she wanted to. "If you want to court martial me, Sir... go ahead. I have made up my mind."

She walked towards the door, anticipating the General's response.

It came, but it wasn't what she'd expected.

"Major," Hammond called after her.

Carter looked over her shoulder, frowning.

"God bless you."


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N's: thank you all for reviewing. I have tried to reply to most of them, but if I missed one, or if you left an anonymous review: thanks, I appreciate it a lot!_

* * *

"Dr. Fraiser to room 205, Dr. Fraiser to room 205."

Janet Fraiser jumped up to the sound, an expression of worry immediately edging her face. "Damn," she cursed silently. She spurted out of her office, heading for Colonel O'Neill's room. Even when she was still in the hallway she already knew what was going on.

Another nightmare.

By the sound of it, a honkin' big one again.

She rushed inside, to find a nurse desperately trying to calm down the agitated but clearly not awake man on the bed. "Watch yourself," Janet warned, although she noticed the nurse kept her distance avoiding the widely swinging arms.

Fraiser approached the bed. Her patient and friend was gasping for air, his face wet from sweating. He had his eyes open and she winced at the terror she found there. He was waving his arms wildly around, then clutched them at his chest, murmuring "no, no," the whole time before moving them again to lash out at anybody coming too close.

"Colonel O'Neill," Fraiser called out with a raised voice to try and catch his attention. "Wake up, Sir! Come on, you're dreaming."

He wasn't responding. Instead, he swung his arms around, shaking his head in despair before struggling to sit up. The IV-pole wasn't prepared for that last movement and crashed to the floor.

"Don't move, Sir," Janet urged. "Colonel? Snap out of it!" She stepped closer. "Where's Teal'c?" she snapped at the nurse, who rushed out of the room.

Her voice didn't reach O'Neill. He was hyperventilating now and the rough sounds coming from his lips seemed like words but Fraiser couldn't understand a bit of it.

Ducking under his swaying arm Fraiser reached the bed and grabbed his shoulder. Shaking it slightly, she tried again. "Colonel, come on, wake up. It's a dream, you're safe. Sir?"

He jerked his body around, moved his arm to clutch at Janet's shoulder and, leaning too far over the edge of the bed, he started falling out.

Reaching up with her other arm up, Fraiser quickly supported her patient, shifted her body until he was hanging on her shoulders. There was no way she was able to hold onto the heavy man, his wild trashing around and his heavy trembling not making it any easier for her. "Easy, Jack," she soothed. "Please. Calm down. It's me, Janet..."

Another uncontrolled movement and his hips slipped off the bed and the only thing Fraiser could do was guide their fall, as she desperately tried to ease him down to the floor without ending up underneath him.

They lay still for a brief moment, and, hoping the fall had woken him up, she rubbed his shoulders. "It's okay, Sir. It's okay."

He shuddered, then pushed himself away from her, his eyes wide open with fear.

Although his sudden movement had taken her by surprise, Janet was quick enough to pull back before his cramped hands could forcefully shove her back.

Still croaking incomprehensibly O'Neill scrambled backwards, using his hands and feet to crawl away from what he figured to be his tormentor. Without realizing it, he ended up under the bed, hitting his head against the steel frame twice, but, ducking, still pulling back.

Fraiser sat still, watching him moving away from her, not wanting to scare him any further. "Colonel O'Neill. You're safe. It's a dream. I'm Janet Fraiser, remember? I'm not going to hurt you." She bit her lip in order to control her emotions from seeing her friend in such distress. "Colonel? Wake up, please. It's me, Doc," she repeated gently.

O'Neill's movements ceased and he stared at her from under the bed, his gaze confused and surprised. His mouth was open as his chest rose up and down rapidly from the short, quick intakes of breath. He was leaning forward on his trembling arms, unaware of the blood dripping from his left fore-arm from where he'd pulled the IV needle loose.

"Jack? It's me, Janet. You're safe, I promise," Janet said, patiently waiting, hoping this would be the break-through.

He stared back at her for a long time before cocking his head, blinking twice. "Doc?" he croaked.

Relieved, she nodded slowly. "Yes, Sir. It's Janet." Forcing herself not to move, she watched him carefully, needing to know for sure he was with her now.

Still confused, Jack slowly turned his head to scan his surroundings. Sighing deeply, he shifted until he was on the other side of the bed and sat up. "Oh, God..." he whispered with an anguished voice. Slowly he lifted his hands and pressed the palms over his face to cover his eyes.

Fraiser slowly rose to her feet. "Colonel, I'm coming closer." Repressing the urge to rush forward she moved cautiously around the bed, stepped over the IV-pole and knelt next to her patient.

Placing one arm gently over his shoulder, she just sat there, holding him while he still trembled. "Just a dream, Sir," she said softly. "It was just a dream."

The door opened and Teal'c stepped inside.

Fraiser, feeling the Colonel's body go rigid at the sound of somebody approaching, quickly reassured him. "Sssh, it's okay. You're safe. It's Teal'c, okay?"

They sat silently, Janet deliberately giving the Colonel time to recover, and Teal'c, understanding the situation, just stood still, waiting patiently for the moment his assistance was required. Minutes, many minutes later, Fraiser felt the trembles cease and heard that O'Neill's breathing was slowing down to a more regular pace. His hands were still covering his face though, and he hadn't said a word.

When she figured he had regained his composure, she removed her arm from his shoulder and pulled it back, only leaving her hand on his arm. "Are you going to stay here, on the floor, or shall we try to get you back in bed?"

He dropped his hands in his lap, stared at the floor in front of him before lifting his head. He didn't meet her eyes, but gave a slight nod.

Fraiser got up. "Okay."

Teal'c moved closer now. "Allow me to assist you, O'Neill." He got no response, so the Jaffa bent forward, gently guiding his CO in getting up and lying down on the bed. Teal'c stepped back and took in his regular position, at the foot-end of the bed.

Janet pulled the blankets up to cover O'Neill to the waist, then lifted the IV-pole back up. Looking at the silent man in the bed, she stepped closer. "Colonel?"

He didn't respond, didn't lift his head, didn't as much as blink an eye.

"Colonel?" she tried again. "You want some water?"

This time he nodded, barely visible, but she noticed. Grabbing a glass, she handed it to him and let him drink, satisfied he hadn't slipped back into wherever he had been before. Gathering the stuff she needed, Fraiser now took his hand, examined the damage from the IV-needle he'd lost during his battle, then searched his face. "Can I clean this up now, Sir?"

Taking in his second nod, she quietly got to work and soon had the line running again and his hand bandaged. She wiped his face with a clean cold wet cloth. "Done, Sir. I'll be back later to check on you okay?"

Silently greeting the Jaffa, she turned and left the room, leaving her patient to deal with his demons in private.

* * *

"Morning, Sir." Major Carter entered O'Neill's room with an encouraging smile on her face. She'd already been informed on how her CO had survived the night, each time slowly drifting to sleep for ten or twenty minutes just to be rudely awakened again.

"Hey," was his faint reply, but he didn't even make the effort to look up at her.

She took the chair, pulled it closer and sat down, watching him carefully. He looked even worse, if it were possible to start with. The color of his skin was ashen, his eyes sunken and almost swollen now. The head end of the bed was a bit elevated, to give him some more contact with the world around him, but Carter wondered whether it had that effect at all.

Taking in his eyes that were slowly closing again as he was falling asleep, she remained silent, studying the lines of his face and the setting of his lips. Peaceful, for now, but it never lasted long, she already knew.

Keeping a close eye on her CO, Sam noticed when the nightmares started tormenting him. The eyes started rolling behind the closed lids and the lips moving, too, as if he was whispering curses, or pleas, she didn't know. Bending forward, Carter placed her hand on his bare forearm, and started stroking, gently and slowly. Then, bending her fingers, she let the tips of her fingers run over his skin, up to his elbow, and back to his wrist.

Muttering at first, a frown formed on his face, then the eyes slowly opened, staring at her in surprise. "Carter?" he mumbled.

"Yeah, it's me," Sam quietly responded. "Shh... try to sleep, Sir."

Losing the battle against the much needed sleep, the exhausted eyes closed again.

Without losing contact with his face, Sam stopped stroking his arm as she tried to detect when his rest became disturbed and whether her contact with him made a difference. He slept, quietly, for five minutes but then he became restless again, and she noticed the beads of sweat appearing on his temples.

Quickly she moved her hand, her fingers touching his skin, moving them up and down again.

As she expected, the Colonel responded, his troubled movements subsiding. "Not that I don't think this is nice..." he managed to whisper. "But..."

Interrupting him, Carter gently patted his arm. "Just a reminder that I'm here, Sir. Whatever your mind tries to tell you... it's over. It's just a dream now." Again, her fingers touched his skin, tickling softly. "I'm real. I'm here. It's okay, you can sleep now..."

She wasn't sure whether he'd heard her at all, his eyes were already closed and she wondered for how long they would remain that way this time.

* * *

Colonel O'Neill was floating.

Flying, on his back, hands comfortably stuffed under his neck.

Underneath him was a big, soft cloud.

Around him, besides some more clouds, nothing but silence.

He flew, he drifted, enjoying the peaceful silence of the world of his own creation. A world without pain, without horrible images. He deliberately let the soft breeze take him along, floating, gently and quietly.

Deep down inside Jack knew this wasn't real, that this was all a dream, but now he also realized he wasn't alone, desperately trapped in the never-ending circle of torture and death. This time, he knew, there was no lid that would pop open so his tormentor could start all over again.

He knew this, because his subconscious told him about the soft fingers that were running gently over his arm, stroking constantly over his skin, reminding him of the presence of somebody who refused to leave his side.

Carter.

Carter was here to watch over him while he floated away. She would stay with him, no matter how long his trip would last, her fingers running softly over his arm, unmistakably telling him that everything else was gone. Over. Ended.

The circle was broken, the torture ended, even death conquered. Now, the only thing remaining was the torturous vivid images that were burned into his mind.

He couldn't erase them, he knew that much.

Jack O'Neill had had the bad luck of having a whole dose of experiences with horrible images. He knew it was going to take a long time for him to live with this newly added movie inside his brain, that he would have to deal with it, step by little step.

The floating helped. It was relaxing, for body and soul. The terrifying images wouldn't interrupt while he was here, withdrawn in his world of silence, the ever present fingers touching his skin, reassuring him that he was safe.

Somehow another part of his brain told him to be embarrassed, ashamed, that he needed to regain control over himself, instead of needing the comfort of feeling the presence of a friend close by. That he needed to put up his tough military guy act.

Crap.

He quickly discarded the thought.

He was so tired.

Too exhausted to struggle right now.

Allowing his body to remain completely relaxed, O'Neill drifted, floated along with the clouds for another while, knowing how much he needed this. There were still many steps to take, but for now he just enjoyed the moment of standing still, engulfed in the silence and peace. Surrendering, he let himself being carried away on the clouds, without being afraid of waking up this time.

* * *

Janet Fraiser had finally slept for a couple of hours in a row, but she still felt drained and exhausted. She wondered what she would find in the infirmary this time, hoping that it wouldn't be too bad.

There was silence when she approached Colonel O'Neill's room, which was a good start. Without searching for a member of her staff to update her on the last couple of hours, she directly went to go and see the patient who demanded all of her attention.

She stepped inside and was surprised at what she found there.

Sam Carter sat on the bed, her back against the wall. She had her knees pulled up, and between them, leaning with his head against her chest, lay a quietly sleeping Colonel O'Neill. He was lying a bit on his side, and Sam's hand was gently stroking his exposed bare arm.

Carter smiled at the stunned doctor. "He's asleep for almost three hours now," she whispered.

"Three hours?" Janet mouthed back. "That's good... No nightmares?"

Sam shook her head. "Every time he gets a bit restless, I just run my fingers over his arm, and he settles down again."

"Like you've been doing before, telling him to remember it was you," Fraiser understood. "Can you keep this up a bit longer?" she suddenly wondered, knowing it must be uncomfortable for her friend sitting like that, carrying the weight of the sleeping Colonel.

Carter gave her a determined smile. "I'll be pretty stiff, but it's okay. I'll hold, as long as he's sleeping."

"Thanks," Janet said. "This is exactly what he needs."

* * *

Daniel Jackson had been busy with other assignments, but now finally had the chance to go back and see how his friends, and one in particular, were doing.

He wasn't planning on showing himself, but just needed the reassurance that everything was going as well as could be expected.

He'd been worried about his friend, knowing Jack better than anybody else, having dealt with him for more than five years. Daniel remembered their endless discussions about good and bad, about the military and being a civilian, about peace and self defense. Apart from that, they'd also had their private talks about darker stuff, bad memories and things that, although better forgotten, still popped up in either his or Jack's mind once in a while.

They'd shared experiences. Talked about life and death, of losing people they cared about. Although Daniel was sure Jack hadn't told him much in detail, he was certain that _what_ he had told, had been special to start with, since he was knew Jack wouldn't have shared it with anybody else.

Jack had been there for him, just as he had been for Jack. Bad memories and nightmares were something they had shared and it made it easier for them to deal with, since they both realized the other had similar experiences. How many times had he woken up after a terrifying nightmare, only to find Jack there, soothing him, telling him it was all a dream and that everything was all right? How many times had Jack woken up from disturbed dreams, attempting to hide it from everyone, but had finally allowed Daniel to help him deal with it?

The nightmares would be back now, that was a certainty. He wasn't there to help Jack through it, which was also clear. It had left Daniel worrying, and hoping that somehow, someone else would be able to break through the brick wall Jack had built around himself.

He slowly descended to the world he'd lived in for many years, and found his way through the SGC like he'd never left. Invisible to everyone, he could easily go wherever he wanted, but his direction was straight towards the infirmary.

Without trouble, Daniel found the room he wanted and peered inside.

Relief overwhelmed him at the sight in front of him. Sam was sitting on the hospital bed and Jack was sleeping comfortably in her arms. Sam had a faint smile around her lips, her hand absentmindedly stroking over Jack's arm. _Way to go, Sam_, Daniel thought and he smiled, satisfied that his earlier statement hadn't proven to be wrong.

His best friend was going to be all right after all.


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N's: almost there, folks... although... Jack is still struggling a bit. Can you blame the guy? Thanks for all the reviews again!_

* * *

"Colonel," Doctor Fraiser said cheerfully upon approaching his bed. "How are you feeling, Sir?"

"Mmm," was the short reply, revealing nothing specific.

Used to that response, Fraiser smiled and took his wrist to check his pulse. "Well... you've slept for a couple of hours, finally... Your stomach is holding out with the diet I've prescribed... I'd say that's a big step into the right direction, Sir."

"Hmm," O'Neill said, which could be he was agreeing with her, or not.

"I don't think you mind I've sent Major Carter to her quarters now that you're awake, Colonel. She's sleeping now, and will be back later tonight." Janet closely studied his face, trying to comprehend what was troubling him.

"Yeah," he nodded slightly but not convincingly.

"Sir?" she asked, wondering what was wrong.

O'Neill refrained from looking at her, but stared at the blankets under his hands instead.

Closely looking at him, it suddenly hit her. He was embarrassed and it was making him feel rather uncomfortable. Smiling to herself, Janet let go of his wrist. "Oh, come on, Sir. It wasn't so bad to sleep in Major Carter's arms, now was it?"

Jack glared at her, and then shrugged his shoulders. "Can't keep doing that..."

"Not forever, no," Fraiser agreed. "But right now, you need sleep more than anything else. And if the only way you _can_ sleep is in somebody's arms, then so be it. There's no reason to worry, I'm sure Sam doesn't mind."

"Maybe not, but I do," he protested weakly.

"Do you?" Janet asked. "What, you think it looks bad on your record? Are you afraid you'll lose your tough guy image? Embarrassed that you feel better accepting help?" She stared at him, knowing all too well that that was exactly the problem. To her, it was a sign that he was at least on the mend if he was starting to worry about stuff like that, and the fact that he'd been accepting Carter's help in the first place was even more proof of how bad off he'd been. Knowing he needed more help before he would be able to manage by himself, she just needed for him to stop worrying about it and let it all happen and she pondered on how to achieve that.

"Whether you realize it, or not, Colonel," the female doctor said, her voice stern now. "You are only human, just like the rest of us. And the fact is, you've been to hell and back several times and besides us, there's really no-one to help you through this. So cut the bravado, be a good patient and take the proffered help... the sooner you'll be back to your old, sarcastic, grumpy I-don't-need-anything self. Sir."

"Grumpy?" Jack shot at her, glaring into her direction.

She giggled, then grabbed a chair, pulling it closer and sat down. "These nightmares... Colonel. Did they trouble you like this after Iraq as well?"

O'Neill dropped his head, suddenly examining the folds in the blankets. "That... was different."

Fraiser eyed him, wondering what he meant. "Why?"

"Because..." he hesitated, not used to talking about that other dark period in his life. "They kept me doped to the gills for several weeks."

Understanding now, Fraiser's face lit up. "Ah. That's why you didn't want me to use anything this time?"

He slowly nodded. "I need to know what is real and what isn't."

"They probably wanted you to grow stronger physically first," Janet explained. "Then dealt with the rest later."

The Colonel shrugged. "It has to come out eventually," he said. "So better to get it over with now."

She examined his face, saw the flash of determination and now even better understood his wishes. "I think I know what you mean," she said softly, then reached out to grab his hand. "And you're doing great so far, Colonel. You really are. So please, let us continue in helping you. Above anything else your body needs rest. And if the only way you can get that is by sleeping in somebody's arms, than accept that for now. You can sleep in Carter's arms, in Jonas' arms, or Teal'c's, I couldn't care less. Hell, I'd even order the General up here if that's what you need. As long as you sleep."

He snorted, but remained quiet.

"Sometimes one shows strength by admitting to weakness, Sir," Fraiser reminded him, then thought of another approach when he refrained from responding. "How did you deal with the nightmares after Iraq?"

"Sara," Jack whispered after a while.

"Did you talk to her?"

He shook his head.

"But she was there..." concluded Fraiser, nodding in understanding.

"You know... this was far worse than Iraq," O'Neill admitted after another period of silence.

Surprised, both at the statement plus the fact that he'd made it, she looked up. "How?"

"When I was captured in Iraq, there were two ways out. One was to survive, waiting for a rescue or a chance to escape by yourself. The other one was to die. It's a certainty, you know..." This time, the Colonel raised his head and met her gaze. "Of course I didn't realize that back then, but dead was dead. Over. Finito. End of the torture, the humiliation and the pain... Whenever I chose to give up, it would be over..."

Trying to comprehend what he was telling her, Fraiser nodded slowly. "That was still one thing that you were in control of. That it was your decision to hang on as long as you did."

"Yeah," he fumbled with the blankets, shyly looking down. "And although I didn't appreciate that choice at the time... God... I wished I had it now..."

"I think I know what you are saying," Janet said, sighing deeply. "But still I can't even come to understand what it must have been like."

"How many times do you think he could have continued reviving me?" Jack asked without looking at the doctor beside his bed. His hands were clenched to fists now. "I mean, I know it starts changing you, but really, there always will be something of you left... It could have been going on forever... and even then..."

"Even then?" Janet wondered out loud, not knowing where he was going with his thoughts.

"If I wouldn't be worth reviving anymore... God knows where that would have left me, right? For all I know he could have put another damn snake in my head." His voice was harsh now, and the desperation he must have been feeling when he was in Ba'al's hands was shining through.

Fraiser closed her eyes, not having thought of that possibility. She patted his arm. "Well, luckily it didn't get that far, okay?"

O'Neill lifted his hands to press the palms over his face, and then sighed heavily. "Nah... thank God."

"So... you're gonna be okay?" It was a dumb question, Janet knew that, but she really didn't have anything else to say at the moment. He was holding his own, and slowly on the mend and all she had to do was monitor him closely, making sure he wouldn't slip back without anybody noticing it.

Dropping his hands back onto the bed, he searched her face, taking in the honest concern she was showing. Giving her a faint smile, O'Neill nodded. "Yeah, I think so. It's gonna take some time, but..." again, he tried to nod as convincingly as he could.

"Take all the time you need, Sir."

"Mmmm," he said, a little bit of the old O'Neill shining through. "If I get to sleep in my Second in Command's arms every night, I might stretch it a bit..."

"Colonel!" Fraiser chuckled, then rose to her feet. "Well, since you're doing all right, I better get to my real patients. Why don't you get some clothes on and wander around a bit through the infirmary, Sir?"

"I can?" stunned, O'Neill looked at her.

"Sure," Janet nodded, convinced it might help him to regain some control. "It will do your muscles some good. Just remember... small steps. And try to get some rest afterwards, you're still exhausted." She opened the door, prepared to step out of his room.

"Doc..." he called after her.

She looked back over her shoulder.

"Thanks."

* * *

Colonel O'Neill walked through the corridors of the SGC, dressed in his BDU's, one hand stuffed deep in his pocket while he whistled a tune.

He thought about the last couple of weeks, of how much progress he'd made with the help of his friends after the whole life-and-death-circle he went through in Ba'al's little gravity heaven. Involuntarily a shiver crept up his spine and he deliberately shook his shoulders, attempting to get rid of the feeling of despair that was still trying to take hold of him.

Compared to Iraq, he had made a faster recovery, Jack knew that, but still he wished things to speed up. He just had to keep reminding himself to be patient. Which wouldn't be a bad thing if it wasn't for the fact that patience wasn't one of his higher developed qualities.

The memory of himself, trapped in all those freaking nightmares, with his friends close by, not to mention sleeping in the arms of his Second for several nights still made him feel slightly embarrassed. On the other hand O'Neill realized it was their presence and help that had pulled him through. There was no Sara to help him deal with his demons through the night. There was no Charlie, to go out and play with in order to forget.

Bless his team. Jack knew he wouldn't be what he was today without them. Not that he was feeling his old sarcastic self yet. He still felt... on the edge of his nerves. Tense. Like a bomb that could go off every second. But, looking at the bright side, the fragility was gone, he was growing stronger with every day that passed.

He'd talked it through with Doctor Fraiser and she'd agreed to his wishes to get out of the infirmary, and start some light duties, hoping it would do him good.

_It did._

It was great to feel human again, in his regular military clothes. It gave him the feeling he was somehow back in control over his life and body. It was what he needed, to regain control, but most of all, regain faith in himself.

Jack headed for the briefing room. He planned on joining the morning briefing, where Carter was going to explain some science babble to SG-3, who were about to go on a recon mission to Px-yada-yada. Jonas would also be there, to inform the team about the natives. It was not really that his presence was needed, but he just wanted to start doing some routine stuff, to pick up the pieces and move on.

O'Neill arrived at the briefing room early. Nobody was present when he entered the room. He looked around, then his eyes rested on the glass window behind General Hammond's chair.

_He froze._

He stared at the map of the galaxy that was pictured on the glass. The circles around earth, the diagonal lines... they were suddenly being replaced by the image of the tangled web Ba'al had created to secure him in.

Jack blinked twice. He was unaware of the trembling of his hands and the sweat that was appearing on his brow. The star map was there, but his mind morphed it into the gravity web and even made him believe for a split second that he was being sucked against it for the umpteenth time.

He gasped and quickly closed his eyes.

Standing there for a minute or two, desperately trying to convince himself he was facing the glass window and that his mind was playing tricks on him, he didn't hear the next person enter the room.

He forced himself to slowly open his eyes and stared at the glass again. The two images were still mixed up, and, covering his eyes with a shaking palm, he turned around, waited a couple of seconds before trying again.

This time, Jack opened his eyes and made himself look again, reminding himself of what it was and what it wasn't. He managed to keep staring at it for some time, when a soft voice startled him.

"Sir? What's wrong?"

O'Neill turned around, to find Carter standing in the door, a worried frown etched on her face. He run a weary hand over his face, only now noticing that it was trembling badly. "Oh... nothing."

"Nothing?" Sam wasn't fooled. "I wouldn't call that nothing. Come on, Sir, what is it?"

"Err..." he really didn't want to start explaining things now, especially since he figured he would be ordered back to the infirmary. He shrugged helplessly and leaned against the briefing table.

Carter stepped closer to him, meanwhile scanning the room wondering what could have shaken her CO that badly. She sat down next to him and placed a hand on his arm. "There's something here making you remember stuff, right?"

"Uh-huh," he admitted. He had his eyes closed now, so he didn't have to look at her, and wouldn't see the window either.

"You can tell me, Sir," Carter said softly. "Maybe we can remove it for a while?"

He shook his head. "Can't exactly remove the glass, now can we... But thanks anyway."

Sam looked up, at the glass window in front of her. "What's with the glass, Sir?" she wondered. "Is it the map on there?" Although he didn't answer, she felt him trembling. She jumped off the table, walked over to the slide-displayer and turned it on. Quickly, she put on the first slide, and then moved to the window to lower the screen. The map of the galaxy behind the General's chair was gone, replaced with something else. That left the one in the corner of the briefing room. Walking back to the Colonel, she took his hand. "Why don't you go and sit on this side, with your back to this window, Sir. I've removed the other one already."

O'Neill opened his eyes, and forced himself to concentrate on his Second's face. He followed her suggestion, and turned his back against the big window, where he knew, although all the way to the left, was another visualization of his nightmares. Quickly throwing one glance at the window behind Hammond's chair he convinced himself that the upsetting image there was gone.

It was.

Carter had displayed the familiar sign of the SGC.

Letting out a deep sigh Jack stared at his hands, hoping the trembling would cease. "Thanks," he said softly.

Carter smiled. "No problem, Sir. I'll see what I can do about the other window, too, okay?"

He shook his head again. "Don't bother... Gotta get used to it, don't I?"

She patted his arm. "Yes. But you don't have to do everything at once. One step at a time, Sir."


	13. Chapter 13

_**A/N's:**_ and here we are, the final chapter, folks... It is a long one, so hope you like it... I kinda wrote how Jack was doing into the ep Shadow Play, as I figured he wouldn't be totally okay yet, and he also didn't really look like it during that ep. So this is how I pictured it...

thank you all for your support, reviews, favs etc etc, it is much appreciated. Somebody has asked if I will post all my work on fanfic, and I figured everything was already here, but then I realized my biggest story ever, Return to Hell, is still missing here, and, of course the stories I coauthored with BadgerGater (oh, boy, Jack as the silver knight...)

If I started Return to Hell, one chapter a week, I could keep you guys busy til Christmas ;-)

Lemme see where it is... and in the meantime I will talk to BadgerGater if it is okay to post the rest here as well... if you guys want that, okay?

* * *

"Morning, Colonel," Janet Fraiser greeted her patient, when he stepped inside her office for his daily check-up. "How are you doing today?"

"Not too bad," he said, taking a seat in front of her desk.

"I can see that," she smiled. "You are looking better this morning. Slept well?"

"A couple of hours in a row," he nodded. "Then, they were back."

"Okay," Fraiser said, knowing what he meant with "they". "Seems to me they are reducing, though. Which is a good sign."

"Yeah..." he agreed. "It sure helps, doing the usual, boring stuff."

Janet grinned. "Are you working out in the gym, again, too?"

"Yep," O'Neill said, smiling now. "And gave Teal'c another boxing lesson..."

"No headaches, stomach still holding onto the diet... no other side effects I should know of?"

"No, yes, and no, it's all going well. When can I get my first beer?"

Fraiser giggled. "Colonel!" She got up to gather some papers and handed him one. "Let's first try these, Sir. See if your stomach can handle this stuff as well."

Pulling an annoyed face, the Colonel looked over the items on the list. "For crying out loud, Doc... Can't you have mercy? Still no pizza?"

"Soon, Sir. I promise. One step at a time, remember? I'm just being cautious after what you've been through, okay? I really don't want you to fall back now everything is going so well," Janet explained. Moving closer, she quickly ran her vitals check, then gave him a nod. "Okay, Colonel. Off to work you go. I'll see you again, tomorrow, okay?"

* * *

A couple of days later, early in the morning the people from Kelowna, Jonas Quinn's former homeworld, tried to get into contact with the SGC.

Having no idea of the real reason behind the renewed contact, General Hammond called for SG-1 to attend to a briefing in order to discuss the situation.

Teal'c and Jonas arrived first, taking their seats on the General's right hand. Carter followed shortly, taking her seat opposite to Teal'c.

Finally O'Neill and the General entered. Hammond sat down immediately, while Jack slowly looked around before he sat down. The last time he'd been in the briefing room he'd been sitting on the other side of the table, with his back towards the screen with the uncomfortable image in the corner. There was only one seat left for him now though and unless he would admit being more than uncomfortable with the picture in front of everybody, he just had to suppress the unnerving feeling.

Swallowing silently, O'Neill sat down, giving his team a faint smile.

"At approximately 0700 this morning, we received a transmission from P2S-4C3," Carter started.

Glancing once more in the direction of the corner, Jack's heart missed a beat and quickly he turned his attention to the General as he tried to concentrate on the briefing.

"The man identified himself as Commander Hale, Chairman of the Kelownan Defense Council," Hammond said.

Jonas pulled a face. "Well, he's been promoted. When I left, he was undersecretary for military appropriations."

"Well, according to their commander, the Kelownan government wants to reestablish trade relations with Earth," explained Carter.

"I hope you diplomatically told him where to shove it," O'Neill spat.

Hammond glanced at him. "It's not that simple, Colonel."

The disturbing window temporarily forgotten, Jack felt the anger flaring up. "They tried to frame Daniel."

"I don't think it's fair to judge the entire population by the actions of a few scientists," Jonas tried to defend the people from his home world.

Teal'c appeared to agree with his CO. "The Kelownans are technologically inferior to Earth. They have little to offer."

"Except Naquadria," Sam said, her eyes shining with enthusiasm.

Jack wasn't impressed. "Which... doesn't work."

"The hyperspace drive on the X-302 didn't work," Carter explained. "That doesn't mean we should give up. Naquadria is still our best bet for creating shields and weapons capable of repelling the Goa'uld." She looked around, trying to determine if everybody understood her well. "We need this."

Hammond quickly decided. "Okay. Let's find out what they want. Major, please contact the Kelownans and make arrangements for them to visit us."

Carter nodded in agreement. "Yes, Sir."

* * *

O'Neill stepped out of Hammond's office after having talked about their recommendation to the Pentagon. He was trying to collect his thoughts. The fact that the SGC was trying to get into contact with the people who he held responsible for Daniel's death had shaken him more than he could have imagined.

He was angry, frustrated and reluctant to meet these people. On the other hand, Carter was right. Naquadria was something Earth could use well, and he really couldn't let his personal feelings interfere with the bigger scheme.

After their discussion in Jonas' lab, Jack had also realized how hard this was for his youngest team member. The kid had given up everything to come to Earth and was now forced to face his former professor, who had ignored him like he was a piece of dirt. Then the way those other two people had approached Quinn... it was something that pissed him off even more.

Jonas was a part of _his_ team. And nobody treated one of his team badly, without him having a say in it.

At least this whole mess gave him something to focus on. It was a much-needed distraction from his world of dealing with nightmares and flashbacks.

Wherever this was going, he vowed to look out for his team, and one of them in particular. He was so not going to lose another team member because of the Kelownans. Not if he could help it.

Absentmindedly, he'd stepped inside the briefing room. The window behind General Hammond's chair was covered with the screen that was pulled down, something he gathered had been done deliberately by Carter. His breathing increased, as he looked over to the other side of the room. The Sergeant behind the desk was gone, probably doing something for the General.

It's just an image of the galaxy, Jack tried to tell himself. Slowly, he walked forward, step by step, glancing at the glass in question. He wanted to stop, but was unable to. It was as if the gravity was pulling at him once more.

No.

O'Neill firmly shook his head. No gravity, no metal frame, just glass. No acid, no knives.

He clenched his hands and closed his eyes, trying to banish the images that were plaguing him.

Damn.

He didn't need this. He needed to be able to walk through the base and do his job without being disturbed by these mind-tricks.

Jack opened his eyes, standing in front of the image of the galaxy now and straightened his shoulders. Seeing the shape, the circles and the lines, he repeated to himself that it was just a map, just a drawing, on the dark glass.

Nothing else.

Then why was it sucking him closer? Why was it that the only thing he could really see was the metal frame from Ba'al's torture room?

Jack raised his hands and laid the palms over his eyes. Damn, this was so frustrating. He needed to let go. He needed to end this. He needed to regain control.

He wasn't going to let that damn snakehead win. To hell with him. To hell with his gravity hole. To hell with everything that reminded him of it. Furiously, O'Neill grabbed the flag pole, swung it back and forward with great force, and slammed it against the glass.

The thump was loud and the glass shattered as the frame burst into a thousand pieces.

General Hammond, shaken up by the noise, came rushing out of his office, into the briefing room. He stared in surprise at his Second in Command.

Colonel O'Neill stood still, his eyes wide open, aimed at the pieces of glass spread out over the floor, the pole of the flag still in his hands.

"Colonel?" the stunned General asked. "I thought you got over the smashing-windows-attitude a long time ago?"

O'Neill shrugged dejectedly. "Well... yeah..." he stammered, while putting the flag back into its position. "Sorry about that, Sir."

Apparently the sound had been heard in the Control room as well, as a Lieutenant came rushing up the stairs to see what had happened.

"Lieutenant," Hammond immediately ordered. "Get someone to clean this up and get that frame fixed." He didn't wait for a response, but turned to O'Neill instead. "Colonel? My office."

* * *

Major Carter was in a hurry. Twice, they'd been in the briefing room today. The first time she was too late to make sure Colonel O'Neill got a seat on the right side of the table, with his back against the second window displaying the galaxy map. She'd noticed it had made him uncomfortable, although he had done well in hiding it. Luckily, she could steer them to the wanted side of the table when they were talking to the Kelownans.

What she really needed to do, however, was cover that damn glass temporarily. Sam went down to her quarters and gathered a blanket and planned on somehow pinning it in front of the window. Now, she was heading for the briefing room, already trying to come up with a possible explanation to her colleagues, so they wouldn't immediately take it down again.

Carter stepped into the briefing room.

Sergeant Siler was busy cleaning up glass from the floor.

Sam stared at the wall, right where the star map had been. "Well, guess I'm too late," she murmured.

"Major?" Siler looked up in surprise, wondering what she meant.

"Never mind, Sergeant," she waved him off, preparing to leave again. "Sorry to have bothered you."

* * *

General Hammond and Colonel O'Neill stepped inside the General's office. O'Neill closed the door, while Hammond sat down behind his desk.

"Sit down, Colonel," Hammond motioned. "Are you all right?" He glanced worriedly at O'Neill.

Jack wearily ran a hand over his face and let out a deep sigh. "I'm really sorry, Sir," he started to apologize.

"Wanna fill me in?" the General demanded, frowning deeply.

"It's nothing, really," O'Neill tried to wave him off.

"Nothing?" Hammond snapped. "If you think you can walk around smashing my windows without giving me a damn good explanation, then you can think again, Colonel."

Jack leaned back in the chair, closing his eyes in order not to look at his CO.

"Colonel?"

"It's..." O'Neill started hesitatingly. "It's that damn map, Sir."

Hammond's mouth fell open. "The map?" he stared at the window between his office and the briefing room, which was covered by the screen. "Is that why Major Carter keeps lowering that screen?"

Jack's breathing increased as he watched over his shoulder, then he let out a long, deep sigh. "Yeah," he admitted softly. "She has found out I have some problems looking at the map right now."

"Why?" The General's voice was softer now.

O'Neill uncomfortably rubbed his eyes.

"Jack?" Hammond leaned forward over his desk. "What does it remind you of?"

O'Neil, reluctant to talk about what was troubling him but seeing no other way out, quickly gave the General the short version. "Ba'al had this metal frame... resembling some sort of spider web... He put the gravity field behind it so that I got sucked against it," remembering how some times were a little bit less comfortable than others, he made a desperate gesture with his hand. "Or smashed... Or crushed... sort of."

Hammond stared at the Colonel, trying to absorb the given information. "I'm sorry," he finally said sincerely.

O'Neill rolled his eyes.

"Did it help?" the General asked.

Jack stared at him. "Sir?"

"Did it make you feel better, breaking that glass?" Hammond wanted to know.

"Well..." O'Neill shrugged. "It sure felt good for a little while..."

"You want to smash that one, too?" the General pointed at the still covered window.

Stunned, Jack looked up at him. "Excuse me?"

"Look, Jack," Hammond started gently. "Nobody deserves going through something like you went through. As much as I would like to, I can't undo what's already been done. But I can guarantee you that I regret the day that I have agreed to your stay with the Tok'ra until they would find a suitable host for Kanan..."

"Not your fault, Sir," O'Neill said softly.

The General refrained from answering that. Instead, he continued. "What I'm trying to say is that the only thing that matters right now is for you to recover, and so far you are doing a damn fine job at it. And if you need to smash a couple of windows along the way to blow off some steam, then be my guest. I'm sure the President won't mind paying for some extra glass if it helps you to get back on your feet."

It wasn't exactly what O'Neill was expecting to hear. "So you're not going to..." he started with a stunned expression on his face.

"Give you a reprimand? Send you to the infirmary?" Hammond filled in. "No. Are you gonna be okay? Really okay?"

Jack nodded confidently, with a faint smile around his lips. "Yes, Sir."

* * *

SG-1 gathered in the briefing room, taking their seats. The mess in the corner was cleaned up and besides the ones who knew what had happened, nobody noticed there was something missing. Hammond welcomed them with a brief greeting, and then looked at the newest member of SG-1. "When are they going to move against the government?"

Jonas made a slight gesture with his hand. "I don't know, but if they intend to prevent a war, they're gonna have to do something fast."

Teal'c, leaning back in his seat next to Jonas Quinn, was rubbing his thumbs together. "That will not prevent their enemies from attacking."

"According to Dr. Kieran, there's popular support for a negotiated settlement in all three countries. Now they believe that if the resistance can seize power in Kelowna this will compel the other governments to come back to the table or risk similar uprisings. At the very least, they'll be too busy dealing with internal discontent to launch an attack," Quinn explained.

Carter quickly concluded. "If they can pull it off, we might have a more viable trading partner."

"We need a lot more Intel before we proceed with anything," O'Neill tempered her.

General Hammond looked at them. "The Pentagon has authorized SG-1 to return to the planet and offer the Kelownan government non-military technology in exchange for Naquadria."

Jack shrugged. "They'll never go for it."

"Maybe not, but we have to explore every avenue," Hammond responded. "In the meantime I want you to make contact with the resistance and determine their strength, their numbers and their chance for success."

* * *

"Doc!" O'Neill called, upon entering the infirmary.

Fraiser came just around the corner. "Colonel? Can I help you?"

"I wanna go off world," he simply said.

Janet stared at him, taking in the determined way he looked at her. She motioned for him to follow her and went into her office.

He followed, closing the door. "Look, Doc," he started. "It's just a diplomatic mission, talk to some people, see if they want what we've got, try to get what we want..."

"Since when is diplomacy your style?" Fraiser had to ask.

O'Neill shrugged. "It's not. But the General is about to send SG-1 to Jonas' former homeworld. It's going to be hard on him, so I'll need to keep an eye on him."

Janet nodded in understanding. Carter had informed her on what was happening, so she knew a little of what to expect. Still, she was wondering, especially since it was the planet Daniel came home from with radiation sickness, and those people trying to frame him while he had been trying to save them instead. She knew the Colonel wasn't exactly very forgiving, and she was worried it would all be too much for him in the midst of his recovery.

"I don't know, Colonel," she frowned. "Of all planets... This isn't really one for you to start. Will you be able to handle your emotions, after what happened to Daniel?"

O'Neill sighed. "Look," he said, searching her eyes. "If you're asking I'm still pissed with these people, you are right. If you think I blame them, you're damn right. I do. But Carter is right, too. These people have something to offer that one day could save Earth from some serious Goa'uld shit, so I am willing to step over my own feelings here... Besides," his voice was getting firmer now. "They are making it really difficult for Jonas by treating him the way they are and I have this itchy feeling that they might try to keep him, not for his own best interests, if you get my point. So it's my job to make sure he comes home safe and sound."

Fraiser took in the determined way he looked at her. After hearing him out, she gave a slight nod. "Okay..."

"Thanks," O'Neill hastened to say before she could change her mind.

"But..." Janet continued.

Rolling his eyes, O'Neill sighed. "Why is it you always have a but?"

The female doctor glanced at him. "Because you take a hand when offered a finger. Because somebody needs to remind you of your limits. Because you have given me reasons enough to in the past. And maybe," she blinked an eye at him. "Because I care about you."

That brought a smile to his face.

"Seriously, Colonel," Fraiser said while she sat down behind her desk, motioning for him to sit down as well. "You are doing well, really, but you are not one hundred percent back to your old self yet, Sir. As you have explained to me yourself, you're still on edge. Some events could trigger a bad response from you, and you know as well as I do that your ability to control yourself in every situation will have to grow. It's all improving, really, but what I am saying is... don't take too much on your shoulders just yet, Sir. Let Sam handle most of it. She's perfectly capable of that and it will give you some time to examine your own possibilities and limitations. Give yourself some time. How's that?"

O'Neill had listened carefully, and although he hated to admit it, he knew she was making perfect sense. "You're a smart woman, Doc. And you're right. This time."

"This time?" she shot back, enjoying the fact that he was bantering with her again. "Go on, Colonel. You're wasting my time."

"Okay, okay," he grinned. "I'm leaving. Thanks..."

* * *

Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter entered General Hammond's office.

"You called us, Sir?" O'Neill asked.

Hammond nodded. "About the mission to Kelowna... I'm wondering whether to send SG-1 with or without you, Colonel."

"Oh, I want to go, Sir," Jack responded immediately. "Besides... I have to keep an eye on Jonas..."

Hammond looked at him, studying him from head to toe. "Colonel, are you up to this?" he asked sincerely.

O'Neill gave a slight nod. "Doctor Fraiser gave her permission, Sir." He turned around, facing Major Carter. "Major, you do what you have to do."

Sam met her CO's eyes. She realized by the way he looked at her that he'd just given her the order to take command on their next mission without actually saying it. Knowing he needed to keep what was left of his self-respect and dignity and regain more confidence she vowed to herself to do what he asked in a tactful way, guiding without actually leading, leaving him in charge by offering him moves and decisions on a silver platter. It would give him some time to readjust on his first off world mission after the latest events without placing him on the side-line. "I'll do my best, Sir. What time do you want to leave?"

O'Neill stared at her. "We can leave in twenty minutes," he then decided.

"Okay," Carter smiled. "I'll make sure the others are ready."

* * *

SG-1, minus their team leader walked up into the Gate room, all dressed up for their upcoming off world mission. The gate was already turning, as Sergeant Davis was dialing up Kelowna from the Control room.

Dr. Kieran stood waiting for the team and eyed his former student. "Are you ready to go home?"

"Well, I'm not expecting a parade," Jonas said, with a sad smile on his face.

Kieran tried to sooth him. "Not everyone in Kelowna thinks you're a traitor. After you left, all of us working on the Naquadria project began to question what we were doing. You opened our eyes."

Jonas heard him out, but had no illusions. "Anyway, it's just temporary. If I stay a minute after the negotiations are finished, I'll be arrested for treason."

The professor looked meaningful at him. "That will all change after the resistance takes power."

At that moment, the wormhole established and Colonel O'Neill walked into the Gate room. He knew Carter had prepared everything and they were ready to go. He just had to give the final order.

"All right. Let's move out."

**THE END**


End file.
